Snitch
by Hettie Hoffleboffer
Summary: Ginny has a new life at Hogwarts-without Harry Potter. But has her new life really allowed her to be over Harry? Set during the last half of OOTP, this story explores Ginny's relationship with Michael Corner and how she really feels about Harry and Cho.
1. A Glimmer of Hope

_Dedicated to anyone who debated whether Ginny 'Got over' or 'Gave up' on Harry._

**_Chapter One: A Glimmer of Hope_**

Don't ask me why or how I know this. I just do.

From the very first time I ever laid eyes on Harry Potter – even before I'd met him, I knew that we were destined for each other. Perhaps not as lovers, or even as friends, I somehow knew we would be a significant part of each other's lives.

I told Mum this when I was only ten years old. But the strange thing is that she believed me. She always told me I had some of my Grandmums 'seer' in me, and that she had no doubt that it would come to pass. When Harry became my older brother Ron's best friend, it did. And my childhood fantasies of him soon grew into a full blown prepubescent crush, especially after Ron had told me all about their adventures at Hogwarts that year.

So I began my education at Hogwarts the next year myself, and I could hardly contain my own excitement, as I would finally be able to begin our destiny together.

Taken under the possession of Tom Riddle in a secret diary in my first year, I had been forced to open Salazar Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets. I unleashed a Basilisk, attacking several students at Hogwarts. It was then that I discovered that Tom Riddle was in fact the sixteen-year-old memory of Voldemort. Of course Harry and Ron came to my rescue. Harry alone defeated Tom Riddle and the Basilisk, increasing the bond between us even more.

I was sorely mistaken.

Harry had his own crush – Cho Chang, a Ravenclaw girl a year ahead of him. But by the time he had the chance to ask her to the Yule Ball in my third year, she was dating Cedric Diggory, a sixth year Hufflepuff. Then Voldemort killed Cedric.

So, I decided at the end of my third year to give up on Harry Potter, and start my life anew. When the twins and Harry were kicked off the Quidditch team by Professor Umbridge, I tried out and made the Seeker position. I even have a new boyfriend, Michael Corner, a fourth year Ravenclaw. He is handsome and smart. Michael adores me, and we have the greatest time together. He is practically perfect.

The only problem is . . . he's not Harry.

But never mind that, because I'm over him . . . okay, I'm not over him yet – but I will be soon, I swear.

Psyching one's self up for a Quidditch match was not usually a difficult task. But then again, if your brother (in other words, the worst Keeper in Gryffindor history) wasn't playing along with me, I wouldn't have much of an issue.

"Ginny, you mind if I come in?" Hermione asked, knocking lightly on the door.

"No, not at all," I said, drying my hair from the shower I had just taken. Hermione looked nervous – more so than she had been in the last couple of days, as though there was something she was eager to tell me, but couldn't find the words. "What's up?"

Hermione flopped herself on my unmade bed. "Well I know that you have been stressed about the game this afternoon, so I thought I should tell you something to get your mind off of it."

I raised an eyebrow. "Okay . . . "

"Well you know last weekend was our Hogsmeade trip . . ."

Yeah, I remembered it all right. It was Valentines Day, and Angelina had forced the team to a daylong Quiddtich practice. Michael was disappointed, so I agreed to join him the next day, letting him take me out to the lake. Unfortunately for him, he wasn't the most gentlemanly with his hands if you know what I mean. Let's just say that if he ever tries to touch me like that again, his hands won't be the only broken appendages on his body. "I remember," I said only slightly bitter.

"Well I was talking to Harry on Monday," Hermione said, beginning to fidget. "And I asked him how his date with Cho went . . ."

Suddenly the sausages I had for breakfast didn't sit well with me, and I had to fight hard not only to keep them down, but to act as calm as possible. "So, what does that have to do with anything? I heard they went to Madam Puddifoot's before they met you and that disgusting Skeeter woman."

Hermione gave me a devious smile. "But I'm sure you don't want to know what _happened_ inside Madam Puddifoot's . . ."

Despite the fact that I have long since given up on seeking a mate out of the infamous Harry Potter, and have decided to seek love and happiness in my lovely Ravenclaw boyfriend (regardless of his busy hands), I still didn't want to know what he was doing with Cho Chang in Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop with all the other snogging nitwits. But my heart often thinks faster than my head.

"Go on," I said continuing to stroke my hair with the brush.

"Well, from what he told me, things didn't go at all well for him and Cho. It seems that she was rather jealous about the fact he was meeting with me that afternoon."

I smirked. She's insecure, I thought. Then again, I always felt she liked him for all the wrong reasons.

Hermione went on to tell me about the whole scene Cho made at Madam Puddifoot's in front of everyone. "She even went as far as to tell him that Roger Davies had asked her out," she said.

"Typical," I said casually, but my heart was thumping hard in my chest. Could it be true? "Did she mention Cedric again?"

"Of course," she said. "Thought I do think she really likes Harry, I also don't believe she has really got over Cedric yet. And I think Harry is beginning to see that." Cho's feelings for Harry were not a new topic of conversation for us, but this new information caught me by surprise.

Finally, I stood up from my chair and turned around to face Hermione. Though she didn't say so, it was all too obvious that she had been waiting for a reaction from me. Her hands were now on either side of her as she leaned anxiously towards me.

I didn't know what to say. I felt awful for Harry, honestly. He's liked her for quite a while. And what she did was uncalled for, all because of her silly insecurities. But still, there was that little part of me that jumped for joy at the news. I felt more excited than I could with any beautiful catch of the Golden Snitch I could possibly make.

But honestly, what was I to do? I can't very well change my mind and go after Harry again. What if Cho changes her mind again, and Harry forgives her? I can't put myself through any more longing and disappointment. Not to mention that I have a wonderful boyfriend who adores me, and whom I care about very much. It was too late now.

"Hermione, what do you expect me to say?" I said, walking over and sitting on the bed next to her.

"I don't expect you to say anything, Ginny," she said. "I just thought–"

"Well, you thought wrong," I snapped back.

"I'm sorry Ginny. I didn't intend for it to make you upset."

I sighed. "I know. I – I just don't know how to take this, that's all."

"It's alright, Gin. But you should take this as good news," Hermione said reluctantly.

"What? I should be happy that I would have to continue going on with the rest my life without him? No thanks, Hermione. I shouldn't even be allowing this to get to me as upset as I am. I just don't know what's come over me."

Hermione put her hands on her hips and gave me a stern look that was usually saved especially for Ron. "You know that's not true. He just hasn't had the opportunity to see you as you yet. Honestly, he really can be almost as difficult as your brother sometimes."

I couldn't help but laugh out loud. My brother really was quite a dolt when it came to his relationship with Hermione. He really should just come out and say how he feels about her – then again, although _we_ all know how he feels, _he_ still doesn't have the slightest clue.

Turning to Hermione I asked her, "What am I going to do?"

She brushed some hair from my face, and looked me in the eyes, "You are going to forget all this rubbish I said about Harry and Cho and go finish getting ready for the match. Angelina is nearly as impatient as Wood, and we wouldn't want to keep her waiting, now would we? And lets not forget the potions quiz you said you needed help studying for."

Hermione always had a way of keeping me focused on the more important things in life.

"Thanks, Hermione. I needed that."

She hugged me and got up. "We'll talk later, okay?"

"Okay."

"Good luck in the match," Hermione wished for me.

"Thanks. We'll need it."

Unfortunately, Hermione's wish for luck only lasted through the match against Hufflepuff. By a freak occurrence, I was barely focused enough to catch the Snitch behind a sneezing Summerby. Though Harry seemed genuinely impressed as he told me how great I was at catching the Snitch in the end, which was where my luck with him ended.

As soon as _The Quibbler _came out with the expose interview with Harry about the events of the Triwizard Tournament and the return of Voldemort a few days later, Cho was back on him like a cow to a saltlick. They immediately went back into their same old routine.

I had tried to catch Hermione a couple of times to talk to her about it, but she had been quite busy as well, keeping Ron out of a depression about last few Quidditch matches. The Slytherins were now at the point of singing _'Weasley Is Our King' _at nearly every break between classes, and I even ended up threatening a couple of the braver third years by hexing them with bat ears when Hermione wasn't around.

The only comfort I was able to seek was in the arms of Michael. He had found me late one afternoon sulking around one of the greenhouses near Hagrid's hut. It had been one of my haunts since first year, when I still fancied stalking.

"There you are, Gin! I've been looking for you everywhere," he said triumphantly. He surprised me, and I quickly wiped my tearstained cheeks. But I suppose there was no use in trying to hide my sadness, as he noticed my puffy, bloodshot eyes straight away. "Ginny? Is everything all right?"

"'Lo, Michael. I was just about to come look for you," I lied.

"Gin, what's wrong," he asked.

"Nothing. Nothing. I'm fine really."

"No you're not, you're crying," Michael said, giving me a look of concern. "Do you want to talk about it?" He crouched down and attempted to brush the tears away from my face, but I pulled away before he could touch my face.

"No thanks."

He spoke softly to me, and I could see the confusion in his eyes. "Is it about that Tom bloke again?"

"Tom Riddle?"

I never really spoke of Tom Riddle at all. My family always seemed to understand that if I was ever alone and crying, I would just mention his name and they would comfort me, but say nothing. No one really knew _what _to say. I mean, how many people do you know have been possessed by Voldemort and lived to tell about it? And it wasn't something I certainly wanted to share with the school – besides, no one knew who Tom Riddle really was anyway.

So when I met Michael, I told him that Tom was someone from my past that comes back to haunt me every now and again, but it was not something I was comfortable to talk about with him. He told me he understood and left it at that. But after my father was attacked at Christmas, my dreams of Tom had been increasingly worse, and I have the worst feeling that something horrible is going to happen – Especially for Harry.

"Yeah, him," said Michael, genuinely concerned.

"No, not this time," I said, wiping the last of my teardrops away.

Michael grasped my hand and looked into my eyes. "Ginny, I wish you could just talk to me sometimes. You're so distant when you are like this, and I don't know how to react to that."

There was no way I was going to talk to him about my uncertain feelings of Harry and Cho without it ending very badly. "I'm sorry Michael, but I just can't talk about this."

"Can't or won't?"

Confused by his sudden change in attitude, I snapped back, "Now what is that supposed to mean?"

He threw my hand down and stood up. "Dammit Ginny! Are you ever going to let me in? There are so many things that you won't tell me, like about this Tom Riddle character. I know he hurt you, but you won't tell me how! And all this crying! This isn't the first time I've seen you alone crying, you know. You did it after Christmas holiday too."

At this point, my anger with him was at a steady boil. And in order to control myself, I had decided to get up and walk away from him myself. That is, until he said in a softer tone, "Ginny, I love you."

I stopped in my tracks. _He loves me?_

He continued, "Now I don't expect you to say it back right away, but I want you to know that I'm trying to be as understanding as I can Gin. But you're making it damn difficult for me!"

Not knowing what to say, I stood there, dumbfounded. I care for him loads, but he would never understand what I'm going through. Right?

"I'm sorry Michael," I said. "It's just that my life is just very complicated."

Michael's anger swelled once again as he shouted at me, throwing up his arms. "How can that be? You're only fourteen!"

That was it. I couldn't tolerate his sodding attitude any longer. Why is it so difficult to make someone understand something seemingly so simple?

"Don't you think I know that? You don't know what it's like to wake up everyday and know how different I am from everyone else! I can't explain it, and I certainly can't talk about it. You would never understand, Michael. Never. I told you this when we met, and you said that you could live with it. Well if you can't, then perhaps we shouldn't see each other anymore!"

"Fine!" he shouted back defiantly.

"Fine!"

"Good!"

"Good!" I spat, and fell back to the ground in a sobbing heap.

He stormed off in a huff, and it took me a few minutes before I realized that perhaps I was too harsh on him. Aside from my family, and Hermione, I had really never talked about Tom, the diary or the Chamber of Secrets. Michael was right. Perhaps it was time I open up to people. If he really does love me, maybe he would understand.

I got back up and ran after him. And as I turned around the corner of the greenhouse, I nearly plowed into Michael, who was returning himself.

"I'm sorry," we both said in a rush to get out the words.

"Me too," we said again to each other in unison.

Both pausing, we watched looked into each other's brown eyes, waiting for the other to speak. And finally, it was Michael who spoke, placing a warm and comforting hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry, Gin. I know that you need your time and space to yourself to sort out your issues. And from now on I will give it to you, but I want you to know, that whenever you're ready to tell me, I will be here to listen."

I smiled back. "I'm sorry too. I know how difficult it must be not to know what I'm going through. And I want to tell you, honestly. If you can just give me a little more time, please. I hope you can understand."

I brushed a lock of hair from his tanned face as he told me, "Take all the time you need. Like I said, I will always be here to listen."

"Thank you, Michael. Thank you for understanding."

Michael held me in a tight embrace for a moment, before he tilted my chin up with his hand to kiss me. And this time, I allowed him to put his hands on me – within reason of course.

It was a wonderful feeling to be kissed by a boy you care so much about. But my heart, which is in constant battle with my head, won out in the end. And for an instant, I allowed myself to imagine that the light brown hair I ran my fingers through was a deep raven black, and the light eyes behind those closed lids were a most beautiful and brilliant green.


	2. Caught

**_Chapter Two: Caught_**

****

The next few weeks progressed slowly. With the exception of Professor Trelawney's replacement with the Centaur, Firenze (a rather keen idea in my opinion – I mean, he might be a Centaur, but he's quite handsome), things went on as they always did. Michael and I were as strong as ever, and despite the fact that I still saw him everyday, I felt like I was finally beginning to get over Harry. It wasn't until a D.A. meeting in early April that the monotony was broken.

It was a great meeting in the beginning. Cho's friend, Marietta, had been ill, which was fine with me (I really wasn't in the mood for her whining anyway). Also, Dean Thomas had brought along Seamus Finnigan, who since the beginning of the year had maintained a rather ignorant view of Harry's run-in with Voldemort, was finally able to forget his petty prejudices and join Dumbledore's Army.

We were practicing Patronus Charms, something that I knew would be useful in the future, but I couldn't seem to focus enough to produce a Patronus myself.

I whipped my wand back and forth in frustration. "Oh, I'm never going to get this to work!"

"You need to think of something happy, Gin," Michael said, trying to be supportive. "What's your happiest thought?"

I said nothing. Every single happy thought I could think of seemed to include a certain bespeckled wizard who shall remain nameless. Michael was still coaching me on the Patronus when I noticed a small house elf with a numerous amount of hats enter the room. At first, I thought it was one of the elves sneaking in to thank Hermione for freeing them by leaving all the clothing she had made during the school year. However, he scampered up to Harry and began to shake madly, and I realized that it wasn't just any house elf. It was Dobby.

The room silenced quickly, as everyone stared at the small creature approaching Harry, but I still had to strain to hear what Dobby was trying to tell him. All I could hear was Dobby muttering something about "She" and before I knew it, an overwhelming dread came over me. The house elf tried to bash his head against Harry's knees. Harry pushed Dobby away as he followed that with an attempt to kick himself in the head.

Umbridge had found out. I knew it would happen eventually, but she had finally done it. I looked to Harry, who was glancing around the room in horror, and I knew what he was about to say even before he had said it.

"Run!"

I could hardly recall what happened in the next few seconds, because it was complete chaos. The entire group was scrambling to get out of the door – pushing and shoving each other. I felt a tug on my arm and realized that Michael was pulling me towards a clear corridor. I looked behind me to see what was going on back in the Room of Requirement, and I felt a plait of long black hair whip me in the face as Cho rushed up behind us.

"Don't look back!" I heard Ron shout as he grabbed Hermione's arm. I saw them follow Fred and George down an opposite hall.

_But where was Harry?_

As I rounded the corner into another corridor, I heard someone fall on the stone floor behind us.

I stopped and peeked around the corner, wand in hand, ready to hex anyone who near. After a moment, it seemed as though no one was chasing after anyone anymore. It was then that I saw Malfoy twirling his wand in his hand with glee as Umbridge waddled over to see his catch.

"What are you doing?"

Feeling Michael's familiar tug on my arm, I turned around to hush him up. "Shh! Be quiet!" Cho was still with us, no doubt curious to know what happened to Harry as well. Michael looked at me, obviously annoyed.

"I am being quiet!"

Looking off into the distance at the wall opposite us, I heard Cho whisper to her, "How did they find out?"

I peeked around the corner again, hoping to catch a glimpse of who they might have caught. A moment later, I saw Umbridge pull out someone by the scruff of his neck, and my heart fell into the pit of my stomach.

"Oh no."

"What Gin?" Michael whispered. "What's happening?"

"They got Harry."

Burying her face in her hands, Cho whimpered softly, and I signaled to her and Michael that we should move on before we get caught as well. We ran downstairs towards the dungeons. We thought they would try to head us off at the nearby bathrooms or the library before they would try our common rooms. But neither of those places were a keen place to be, so I figured that the dungeons would be the last place the Umbridge and her Slytherin spy team would bother to look.

When we finally stopped near Snape's classroom, I wondered if he was in on the whole thing as well. At that moment, I realized who the traitor was. "That little bitch," I said through gritted teeth.

"Who?" Michael said.

"Marietta of course."

Giving me a stern look, Michael said defensively, "Marietta? What are you playing at?"

Cho stopped in mid cry, surprised that I had even suggested such a thing. "But she wouldn't do this to us. She'd never –"

"Oh come on, Cho! Don't be so daft!" I reasoned angrily. "Marietta was reluctant to even join the DA from the beginning. And tonight – the night she just happens to be ill, is the night that Umbridge finds out about us and raids our meeting!"

"Now Ginny, be fair," Michael said. "For all we know, Umbridge could have found out loads of different ways. Malfoy probably overheard that Longbottom git talking about it. Or that Finnigan bloke – he's never even been to a meeting before tonight!"

Neville? Gimme a break. "You leave Neville out of this, Michael! Neville may not be your typical Gryffindor, but I know that he would never rat on us. And as for Seamus, he's not a spy – he just didn't know what to think about it all until he read the article in _The Quibbler."_

Cho finally jumped in, in defense of her friend. "But Marietta is my best friend. She would never do something like this! She just couldn't!"

"I'm telling you, she's a sneak!"

A flash of anger flickered in Cho's eyes, and she stepped forward, starting to pull out her wand. I, too, stepped towards her, pulling my own wand, ready to hex the hell out of her.

"Alright, that's enough!" Michael said, grabbing our wrists simultaneously, and pushing us apart. "From both of you." He glared at me hard. "Now Ginny, the coast should be clear by now. I want you to find your way back to your common room. Stun any Slytherin in your path. I will take Cho with me back to the Ravenclaw common room. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I said, not taking my enraged gaze away from the ignorant little tart.

Michael grabbed me by my face and kissed me hard on the lips, which softened me for a moment. "Be careful, okay?"

I nodded curtly. "I will," I said, and started off, wand still clenched in my hand, towards the common room.

It was some time before Harry returned to the common room that night. Those of us in the D.A. had all waited up for him, riddled with guilt and worry about what could be happening to him. The remarkable part was that he seemed totally unfazed as he walked through the portrait hole. In fact, he seemed rather happy.

Harry told us all of Marietta's betrayal, and now thanks to Hermione charm on the parchment, Marietta now had the word 'SNEAK' written across her face with incurable pimples (that girl is bloody brilliant). He told us that because we had our named our club 'Dumbledore's Army', Dumbledore was able to take the blame for himself – saving us all from certain expulsion. . Harry finished off the tale by describing how Dumbledore's fantastic exit kept him from being arrested. Never had I felt so guilty. Granted, we would have all been expelled, but now Dumbledore has been exiled from Hogwarts – all because of a silly name I came up with.

"It's not your fault, Ginny," Ron said, trying to be as comforting as possible, when he realized how silent I was after Harry had gone up to bed. "It really worked out for the best in the long run." I know he hadn't meant it, but Ron's reasoning sounded horribly selfish to me.

Hermione put a hand on my arm. "Ron's right Ginny," she said. "He knew that Umbridge would have expelled us all, so he took the blame for us. He's not gone forever. Not really."

"I imagine he's probably with the rest of the Order now," George chimed in. "Planning their next move." I threw my brothers and Hermione a loathsome look, and got up to pace in front of the fireplace.

"Next move?" I said. "You realize that Umbridge has probably taken over the head office by now? And you are concerned about the Order's next move?" Sitting back on the sofa, Fred stretched out his arms over the length of the back of it.

"Don't fret, little sister," he said, giving me a devious wink. "That lot over there in the Order is not the only ones with plans up their sleeves." He nodded at his twin and the two quickly exited and trotted up to their dorms.

"What do you suppose they are up to now?" Ron asked worriedly. "We're in enough trouble as it is."

Giving my youngest brother a knowing look, I said, "I think I'd rather not know."

I didn't see Michael at breakfast. In fact, I had the sneaking feeling that he had been avoiding me all day. It wasn't until I was heading to the Great Hall for lunch after Herbology that I caught him talking to Cho in the courtyard.

"Hello, Michael," I said casually. "I didn't see you at breakfast."

Michael turned about and smiled as he walked over to me. Then he did the most bizarre thing – he greeted my by kissing me on the cheek. _What the hell was that?_

Though we had only been dating for almost seven months, Michael was always the affectionate sort, and he has always resorted to hugging and kissing me fiercely whenever he could. But to simply kiss me on the cheek as if I were and old acquaintance? I just didn't understand. What was he trying to cover up for appearances sake?

"I'm sorry Gin, dear," he said apologetically. "It's just that I've been finishing up some Charms homework I'm having trouble with this afternoon. In fact, I was just asking Cho here if she would mind helping me out, since she has a better knack for it than I." That's odd; he had never had trouble with charms before.

"I see. Well I hope that won't take any time away from your visit with Marietta in the hospital wing this afternoon," I said to Cho with an innocent smile. I turned back to Michael and said, "Now if you'll excuse me, I must be off to lunch."

As I made my way back to the Great Hall with a scowl on my face, I was nearly knocked down by Fred and George on either side of me, who seemed in a rush to the Great Hall themselves.

"Hey Ginny! Why so down?" Fred asked from my right.

"Nothing," I said shortly.

"Fighting with Michael again?" asked George on my left.

"I said it's nothing."

"Well, I'm sure you'll forget all about that in about ten minutes," Fred said.

I stopped abruptly. "Why?" I asked cautiously.

George looked at his watch. "Let's just say that you'll want to find yourself in the Great Hall by then."

"What are you two up to now? And why wasn't I in on it!"

Fred put his arm around me in comfort. "No questions my dear, sweet sister," he said. "Just don't be late okay."

I sighed heavily. "All right, I promise." As they trotted off ahead of me, my scowl grew into a smile. Growing up in the Weasley household, when it came to the twins, I knew _anything_ was possible.

I nearly made it to the Great Hall when Michael caught up to me, taking my arm and pulling me back roughly. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked.

Shaking my arm free, I replied nonchalantly, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Ginny, how could you be so rude to Cho?"

"I wasn't being rude, Michael. I was just making conversation." I said sweetly through my teeth. He gave me a severe look and I rolled my eyes in exasperation. "Okay, fine. I might have been a tad bit rude, but she looked like she needed a bit of reminding about what a deceitful little sneak her friend is." I replied.

"You don't know that for sure," Michael said harshly. "It's only a rumor."

My hands snapped instantly to my waist. If any of my brothers had seen me right then, they would have sworn my mother was standing there, angry as a Chinese Fireball whose egg was stolen.

"You really are a prat, you know that? You know very well that Marietta is in the hospital wing due to the curse Hermione put on that parchment!"

"A curse?" he questioned angrily.

I rolled my eyes again. "Yes – a curse! Hermione put a curse on the parchment we all signed to join the D. A. Anyone who deceived us would break out in pimples and boils, spelling 'SNEAK' across their face!" I chuckled to myself at Hermione's sheer brilliance. But we had to get inside the hall. Most of the students had already filed in for lunch, and it was nearly time for Fred and George to unleash their latest prank.

"That's not funny," Michael said coldly, catching up to me again.

"Maybe not to you, but she certainly deserved what she got!"

"Ginny, that's a horrible thing to say!"

"It was the least that could happen, since it's her fault for getting Headmaster Dumbledore kicked out!"

"What are you talking about?" Michael asked stupidly.

I sighed again in frustration. _I swear this boy is by far, more idiotic than my own brother, Percy. And that's saying something! _I pointed at Umbridge's newest Educational Decree on the wall, and shouted, "If she hadn't snitched on us, Dumbledore would still be here!"

Michael swore in realization, and I almost laughed again in the triumph of making my point as I walked into the Great Hall.

He wasn't going to allow me my win that easily. He came at me again, this time, spinning me around. "That still gives you no right to be as cruel to Cho as you have been. You should apologize to her, Gin."

_Apologize? _Like I said, totally mental.

"Why are you defending her all of the –"

BOOM!

Michael and I were catapulted to the hard stone floor as the entire Great Hall shook, rocking its very pillars. Even the charmed ceiling with the clear blue sky seemed to rattle. Everyone in the hall began screaming and backing up towards the walls. Michael, who had fallen on top of me, helped me up.

In the midst of the terrified shouts and cries, it was Professor McGonagall that I heard as she strode up to the large oak doors, wand in hand, shouting, "What the blazes is this?"

As the doors swung open, the screams of fear became shouts of laughter and awe as a barrage of hundreds of colorful fireworks steamed across the room. McGonagall put her wand down, turned around, and smiled sweetly as she returned to her seat as though nothing had happened.

"Everyone return to your seats. I'm sure Headmaster Umbridge will be more than willing to take care of this." she said smartly. As I saw her pass my brothers at the Gryffindor table, I could swear I saw her give them a sinister little wink.


	3. Similarities

**_Chapter Three: Similarities_**

****

With all the chaos that Fred and George brought with their firework surprise, Michael and I left our argument unfinished, and we avoided the subject for the rest of the day. Unfortunately, we also avoided just about every other subject under the sun. I was so riled that, although we never spoke of it, it was hard to think of anything else. I couldn't help feeling horribly uncomfortable just talking to a him – a boy that I was used to seeing and talking to everyday.

It was like I was in first year all over again.

Thankfully, it was Michael who finally came to me first, inviting me after supper to talk outside in the courtyard. Actually, it was a rather keen idea, because it was just after dusk, and the fireworks could be seen even better than before. Michael laid out his robe on a level patch of grass for us to sit down upon, and we both stared up, watching colorful spinning Catherine Wheels and obscene words light up the darkening sky.

"Lovely night for fireworks, don't you think." he asked casually.

"Yeah," I said amused, shifting in my seat to read the latest banner of light across the sky. "There's nothing more romantic than watching fireworks that say 'Umbridge: The real reason mountain trolls should consider using birth control'."

He laughed aloud for a moment, but it quickly subsided with an uncomfortable sigh. All right, so, he got us both here, but it looked like I was the one who was to make any attempt at reconciliation.

"Okay, so this isn't the most romantic place in the world, but we have each other, right?"

"Yeah, sure," he answered, rather unenthusiastically.

I reached over and tilted his chin towards me, so he would have no other choice but to face me. I looked into Michael's pale blue eyes, which complimented his dark skin, hoping for resolution.

"Michael, I don't want to fight with you. I hate to do it, honestly. Can't we come to some sort of compromise?"

"But how can we Ginny?"

I sat up, crossing my legs to in order to better face him. "Look," I said rationally. "Let's just agree to disagree, all right?"

"Agree to disagree?"

"Sure," I continued, giving him my best Weasley grin. "We can't always agree on everything, you know."

"Ginny, this is different – "

"But why? Why does it have to be any different?" I pleaded. "People disagree everyday, and still are able to respect each other's differences. My parents are a perfect example. Or look at Luna Lovegood."

"Luna?" asked Michael, giving me a rather odd look.

"Yes, Luna," I said rather hastily in defense. "Though I don't always agree with how she goes about things, I still appreciate what a truly special person she is. Despite how others think of and treat her."

He said nothing at first, but after a moment Michael sighed, and turned to me with a smile warm enough to melt my heart.

"I suppose you're right Ginny. We've been going about this all wrong. We don't have to agree on everything. Couples fight. It's something we just have to get used to about each other. The important thing is how we feel about each other."

_Finally, he understands! I knew he would come around sooner or later. _I put out my hand to shake on it. "Agreed?"

Taking my hand, Michael shook it. "Agreed." he held onto my hand, and he gave me a look of seriousness that I never seen in his face before now. He brought his other hand to mine, clasping them together. "Ginny, how _do_ you feel about me?"

At that moment, I didn't hesitate or hold back in any way. His words affected me in such a way that I couldn't help but answer—my heart and my head for once in agreement. "I love you, Michael."

He pulled me close and we embraced, and the warmth of his body against mine created a peculiar flush that I'd never known before. When he kissed me, my entire body melded into him. Laying me down on the grass, he pulled himself up slightly to look at me, and he touched my face gently, tracing the outline of my jaw before he leaned in again to kiss me. A chill suddenly swept through the air and it seemed that the only way to stay in this comfortable warmth was to entwine our bodies passionately.

I even let him touch me beneath my jumper – something that I swore I wouldn't do with anyone but Harry. But, my teenage hormones got the best of me. At the time, it seemed like Harry was a million miles away. Michael and I were the only ones left in the world.

So there we were, Michael and I, snogging in the middle of the courtyard. We rolled over again and I pulled away slightly myself, to brush his untidy hair from his eyes, which had conveniently fallen in his face as we kissed, tickling my nose. I don't understand why the thought even crossed my mind, but when I brushed his hair away, I half expected to see a small lighting-shaped scar in the middle of his forehead. An involuntary shudder ran through me when I realized my thoughts were drifting away from Michael to Harry.

Always to Harry.

The thought stole the joy of the moment away from me as I sat up quickly, and Michael's intimate touch fell from my skin.

"What's the matter? Did I do something wrong?" he asked, looking hurt.

I straightened my jumper and got up, brushing the grass from my skirt. "No. Of course not. I just realized how late it is. It's probably after curfew already."

"Are you sure?"

"Honest," I said, offering him a hand up. "We really should get going, Michael."

Michael walked me back to Gryffindor Tower without saying another word.

"Hermione, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure. What is it?"

"Do you think that Michael resembles Harry?"

Hermione smiled into her book before raising her head to face me. "What makes you say that?" she asked, pressing her lips together to keep her amused smile from becoming a full on grin. My cheeks flushed, and I knew instantly that she understood what I was talking about. She had just been waiting for me to acknowledge it.

"Don't play coy with me, Hermione. You know what I mean. I just can't believe that I never noticed it until now. Dark hair, light eyes. Even the same build, though Michael is quite a bit taller than Harry is. Don't tell me you don't see it!"

Hermione put her book down in her lap and looked at me. "Well, I didn't want to say anything. But you're right – there _are _some obvious similarities between Michael and Harry.

"So what does this mean?"

"It means only what you want it to mean, Ginny."

"I don't understand."

"What I mean to say is that you read into it what you want to read into it, Gin. If you think the reason you're dating Michael is because he looks like Harry then you probably are. But if you're dating him because you like him for him, then there is really no point in asking such a question."

"Oh Hermione, I'm so confused. I just don't know what to think."

"Let me put it to you this way. Why are you doubting your feelings for Michael in the first place?"

I didn't want to admit it, but I already knew the answer to Hermione's question. As if you had to guess. It has been plaguing my mind since the evening before the holiday began.

Harry.

I knew that he hadn't talked to Cho since shortly after Umbridge became Headmistress. Like me, Harry was still angry at Marietta for her betrayal of the D.A. There was no doubt in my mind about how Cho felt, but unlike Michael and me, they hadn't been able to get past it, and hadn't spoken to each other since. Personally, for as ignorantly loyal as Michael and Cho are in defense of Marietta's actions, I would have pegged them for Hufflepuffs rather than Ravenclaws.

Ever since, Harry seemed more angry and distant than ever before. I was sure that it was because of Cho, that he continued to act as he did at the start of term. He really did like her, so I became determined to help him. After all, I had found an understanding and happiness with Michael – even if he looked remotely similar to the 'Boy Who Lived'. It was time I let go. Harry should be allowed the same happiness, right?

_Did I actually say that?_

On the breezy Sunday evening of Easter, I noticed during Quidditch practice that Errol and Pig were hauling a parcel towards the castle.

"Looks like our Easter eggs are here eh, Ron?" I called out to my brother. But he hadn't heard me – he was far too focused on his goal keeping to notice much of anything during practice.

But practice ended early that day as one of our replacement Beaters, Jack Sloper, had clobbered himself with his own bat. Ron, with Angelina and a hysterical Katie (it was quite obvious that she had begun to fancy him), helped Jack to the hospital wing, I made my way back to the common room to see what Mum and Dad had sent us. I found Colin and Dennis Creevy there playing wizard chess.

"Hello Ginny," Dennis said excitedly. "You're back early. Did practice go all right?"

"Not exactly, Dennis," I said shortly. I wasn't in the mood to get into that discussion at the moment. "Look, have either you seen a couple of owls come through here? I'm expecting some Easter gifts from my family."

"Well after the whole episode with the D.A., you'll be lucky to see them at all then." Colin replied with a smirk. "I hear Umbridge is checking all the packages herself for conspirator evidence."

_That figures. That twitchy cow wouldn't know a silly Easter egg from a Fwopper Egg. Like my Mum and Dad would be idiotic enough to go about sending us secret messages._

"Yeah, she's probably looking for a secret note to Harry from Dumbledore or something," I said thinking aloud. "She'd do anything to get him expelled from Hogwarts."

Dennis frowned slightly at my mention of Harry. "I don't know why you ever mix yourself up with him sometimes," he grumbled just enough for me to hear him, as he stared at the chessboard. But his thoughts were obviously elsewhere, as I noticed he was about to miss a great opportunity to take Colin's knight.

"Well, I best be off to the library then," I said, pretending not to notice his remark. Just as I made it to portrait hole, a very somber Ron stumbled through. He was carrying Mum's parcel.

"Look what Mum sent us, Gin," he said. Ron flopped down on in the sofa beside Dennis and ripped open the box.

"How did you get that?" I asked, stunned that he was able to retrieve the package so quickly.

"McGonagall sent this along with me when I told her about Sloper. It seems that Umbridge is now checking the mail too," Ron said, glancing at the chessboard. He nudged Dennis in the arm. "Castle to C4 – anyway, I hope she didn't get her bloody hands all over my chocolate, that would be disgusting – ahh . . ." He quickly unwrapped the egg, which had little broomsticks and goal posts all over it, pulled off a piece and plopped it into his mouth. "Mmm . . . delicious. Hey, has anyone seen Harry and Hermione? It looks like Mum sent them eggs too."

"No," I said, and pretending not to care.

"Hermione is upstairs studying," Colin said unabashedly. "And Harry is down in the library, I believe." Still the little stalker, he is. I swear, I think sometimes that Colin fancies Harry too.

"Well, I was on my way there to search for Michael. I'll take it to him if you like," I offered.

"That's a great idea Ginny," Ron said, sounding more cheerful, as he handed me Harry's present. "Harry could use some cheering up anyway."

_Now what do you suppose he meant by that?_

One of the most peculiar things about my relationship with Harry is that I have always been able to notice his ever-changing moods. Not that it had been all that difficult to do, mind you – his bitterness had been more than apparent lately. But I'd always been able to tell when he was feeling lonely or helpless – even when he tried his hardest to conceal it. I've always been able to see right through it. Being able to understand him in a way no one else did (especially when it came to Tom Riddle) is one thing, but being able to deal with him when was like that is a whole other Quidditch match.

I could tell, from the moment I saw him sitting alone in a far corner of the library, that he was upset. His brow was slightly furrowed, and the far off look he made as he stared out the window, deep in thought, said everything. Approaching him quietly, I still debated whether to disturb him. I was sure he was thinking of Cho.

"Good evening, Harry. Ron asked me to bring you your Easter Eggs from Mum."

Harry continued to stare, oblivious to me. "Harry, I'm talking to you, can you hear me?"

"Huh?" he said, snapping out of his thoughts and finally looking at me. And for a moment, I wished I had changed out of my Quidditch robes before I left for the library. "Oh hi. How come you're not at practice?"

_Did he have to ask? It wasn't a thought I was too keen on bringing up at this point._ "It's over," I grumbled. "Ron had to take Jack Sloper up to the hospital wing."

"Why?"

"Well, we're not sure, but we _think_ he knocked himself out with his own bat. Anyway . . . a package just arrived; it's only just got through Umbridge's new screening process." I handed him the package, which looked as though it went through a shredder first. "It's Easter eggs from Mum . . . there's one for you . . . there you go."

It was the first time I had really talked to Harry since holiday, and my uncomfortable tryst with Michael. I still wasn't entirely sure how I felt about the situation. I mean, for a moment (and an intimate moment at that), I'd wished that Michael were Harry. I should have been feeling guilty about being with Harry, shouldn't I? But my heart reached out for this saddened soul before me, needing to console him.

As I gave him his Easter egg, he looked like he could have burst into tears right on the spot. It was all I could do to keep myself from wrapping my arms around him in comfort.

"Are you okay, Harry?" I asked wearily. I was sure that he was still upset about his quarrel with Cho.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said.

_Yeah right, _I thought. I knew he wasn't fine. He was so very much _unlike_ Michael. _Why does Harry have to shut down like this, when it's now that he needs to open up the most? What is he so afraid of? _

Unlike my relationship with Michael, I seemed to care _more_ about helping Harry open up and talk to me - even if it was about a daft Ravenclaw Seeker.

So, I decided to go the friend route. After all, he deserved every happiness that I could give, and if there was something I could do to help him, then, dammit, I would -even if she was like a sodding hosepipe that won't stop running. "You seem really down lately," I said. "You know, I'm sure if you just _talked _to Cho . . ."

"It's not Cho I want to talk to," he said with finality. And by the tone of his voice, I realized that it was finally over between them.

So it should be really no surprise then that my stomach felt like it bungee jumped from my throat to my knees. _Oh Merlin, let me hear those bittersweet words again! _I leaned in closer to him, anxious to hear more.

"Who is it, then?" I asked anxiously.

"I . . ."

And then it happened – Harry confided in me. Well a little.

"I wish I could talk to Sirius, but I know I can't. Being his Godfather, Sirius was a confidant to Harry, and outside of the Weasley clan, the only family he really had. But due to the ever-increasing restrictions of Umbridge's Educational Decrees, it seemed almost every line of communication from Harry to Sirius had been severed. I watched him closely, as he unwrapped his egg and put a piece into his mouth.

"Well," I said, unsure of myself, as I broke off a bit of egg too. I wouldn't give up on making him feel a bit better, not if I could help it anyway. "If you really want to talk to Sirius, I expect we could think of a way to do it . . ."

He looked at me as though he thought I was mad. "Come on, with Umbridge policing the fires and reading all our mail?"

I grinned as a slightly evil idea sprung into my mind. _How quickly he forgets who I'm related to. _"The thing about growing up with Fred and George," I said bemusedly. "Is that you sort of start thinking anything's possible if you've got enough nerve."

Harry seemed pleased by the support regardless, smiling sweetly as he always did, making the butterflies flutter in my stomach again. It was a tender moment between the two of us, and I wished it could have gone on forever.

Unfortunately for us, my judgment about bringing the chocolate eggs into the library proved to be disastrous. Madam Pince shooed us both from the library like Filch after Peeves. We laughed our way down the corridor and back to the common room, where Ron, Hermione, and the twins were likely already into their own candy. Harry stared down at his egg as we walked down the hall.

"Thanks, Ginny."

"For what?" I asked.

He stopped and bore into me with his brilliant green eyes. "For bringing me the egg. For listening to me. And for . . . just being a friend."

I grinned. "Anytime, Harry."

He looked back to his egg. "I suppose we'd better get inside then."

I understood what he had tried to say. Though Ron and Hermione were his best friends, they sometimes lost sight of what was really best for him.

Harry having confided in me made my heart soar. Knowing that it was me who he finally went to about seeing Sirius was beyond words. I had to help him contact Sirius—And I knew just who to go to for help:

Fred and George.


	4. The Favor

**_Chapter Four: The Favor_**

I found Fred and George in their usual corner of the common room. It was obvious to me that they were in the midst of formulating another plan, for they were crouched over the desk, their bright orange heads of hair very close and pulled together by a magnetic force that only the twins could have. If I hadn't been so adamant about helping Harry at that moment, I would probably have been a bit put out that I, again, wasn't included. As if they sensed my presence, they both turned around and smiled with devious grins.

"Good evening sister," Fred said.

"What brings you to this neck of the woods?" George asked.

"Are you two busy?" I asked cautiously.

"We're _always_ busy, Gin," Fred said with a wink.

George elbowed his brother. "But as you know, we always enjoy making time for our darling little sister. What's up?"

One thing about the twins was that I never had to beat around the bush with them if I needed something. "I need a favor," I said plainly, gaining more confidence.

"A favor? From us?" Fred gasped, feigning shock. "Why Ginny, it's been so long since you've needed a favor from us, I was beginning to think that you were starting your own file in Filch's office."

"Very funny, Fred," I said, trying not to laugh through my attempted tone of seriousness. "But actually it isn't for me specifically. It's for Harry."

Fred guffawed and turned to laugh into his hand. George, biting his lip himself, kept a cooler head about it, but his tone was still a teasing one. "Harry? I thought you were done trying to impress him."

"I am," I said defiantly.

"But you want us to do something for him?"

"Yes."

"A _friend_ thing?"

"YES," I said with a bit more emphasis.

George suddenly dropped his teasing tone and said brightly. "Okay then. What do you need from us?"

I shuffled my feet anxiously, looking around for anyone who might be listening in. "Well, I was just talking to Harry the other night and he told me that he wanted to talk to—"

The twins leaned in as I paused, curious for more.

"Sirius," I whispered inaudibly, and the twins nodded their head in keen understanding. I glanced around the room again before I began speaking in a hushed tone. "But Umbridge is watching the Floo Network and now the mail as well. I can't figure out how he could do it."

George looked at me with surprise, and glanced back to his twin, who was already smirking with amusement. "That's all? We thought it was something difficult Gin, honestly," he said in his teasing tone.

My sarcasm defense went up. "Oh really? You have it all figured out then?"

"Of course," Fred said matter-of-factly. "Actually, we are working on something right now that would tie in perfectly as a distraction for Umbridge."

At this point, I was so irritated with them; I had to clench my fists in order to keep from pulling my wand and hexing them right then and there. Either that, or I would have ended up pulling them along by the ears the way Mum does in order to get information out of them. _What is so damn special that they could no longer include me in their high jinks?_

"Another plan, without me?" I said angrily, "You've got to be kidding me! This is so unfair!"

Fred waved his hands up and down to quiet me, for my minor tantrum was becoming audible. "Will you be quiet, Ginny! Now is not the time for this!"

"No I won't, Fred! Now tell me what's going on!" I said, through gritted teeth.

Nodding to his twin, Fred suddenly swept me up over his shoulder and he, with George close behind us, rushed out of the common room before I realized what happened. I could see the surprised look on the face of the Fat Lady as we went from the common room into the corridor.

She had barely raised a hand in objection, when George turned around and growled, "Not a word, you nosy old bird. This is family business," and they set off with me down the corridor with nothing other than a huff of irritation from the portrait.

Finally, setting me down outside of Gregory the Smarmy, Fred looked at me with disdain. "Honestly sister, I think you're much more trouble than you're worth sometimes," he said.

Dusting myself off with disgust, I said, "Well if you two would start including me for a change, we wouldn't have this issue, now would we?"

George took me by the shoulders and shook me gently, gaining my attention. "That's enough Ginny. This isn't about not including you, dammit! We would really love to include you in this, honestly, but we can't. The stakes are too high for this one, little sister. Besides, this is just something we have to do for ourselves. Understand?"

"For yourselves?" I said sarcastically, resting my hands on my hips in my best "Mum Pose". "When did that ever stop you before? _Come on_, I can deal with not being a part of this thing, but you have to at least clue me in what you have planned."

Sighing, George let go of my shoulders. "_Fine_. If you must know then, Fred and I have decided to leave Hogwarts."

I laughed at him. "Of course you are, you idiot. You don't actually think McGonagall would want to keep you two here for longer than necessary, do you? I mean, to think of you two here—"

Fred stepped in. "We're leaving the day after tomorrow Ginny."

_WHAT?_

I paused for a moment, letting it all sink in, before I finally unleashed the infamous Weasley temper upon them. "You can't do that! You haven't finished school yet!" I yelped. "You haven't even taken your N.E.W.T.S.!"

Fred and George seemed unfazed by my reaction, and both stood there motionless, saying not a word. Desperate, I went with another route of reasoning. "I-I'll tell Ron, he's a prefect now. He and Hermione could stop you. Besides, Mum is going to kill you both! It's bad enough Percy has ostracized himself from the family, now you want to also? You just can't _leave_ you know!"

"It's too late Ginny," Fred said. "We've already made up our minds about this."

George continued. "And don't worry about Mum. We've already have spoken to Dad about it. In fact, he's helped us quite a bit. He's set up a place for our new store in Diagon Alley and all. Besides, we don't have to take our N.E.W.T.S. here. We can very easily finish up our courses and take the tests through correspondence. Mum can't say a word about it."

"But why?" I said softly.

Fred put an arm around me. "It's high time Umbridge understands that just because she has become the new school bully, doesn't mean that she can push everyone around anymore."

I gave my brother a sarcastic look. "Well actually, it does, Fred."

"Never mind that. Because after tomorrow, we will have given Hogwarts something they least expect."

"And what, pray tell, is that?" I asked teasingly.

"Hope," Fred said proudly.

"Hope?"

George nodded. "Yes, hope. Tomorrow, not only will be able to stick it to Umbridge in front of the school, but it will be such a grand display, that even the teachers will want to back us up."

"Godric Gryffindor would be so proud," Fred said, holding a hand up to his heart.

"There has to be another way," I tried to reason aloud, wishing my older twin brothers could understand my selfish pain. But George was right; it really _was_ time for them to go. There was nothing to keep them here. Not to mention that the school really did need a morale boost of epic proportions. I sighed, "This is so unfair. What am I going to do with you two gone?"

Arm still around me, Fred squeezed me into a shoulder-hug and mocked my concern. "Aw, is our wittle sister going to miss her big brothers? Don't worry, she still has her ickle Ronniekins to look after whilst we are away."

Smiling, George patted my free arm. "Besides, you really don't need us anymore. Not really. Fred and I both agree that you've earned the 'Weasley Mischief-making Seal of Approval' some time ago. You'll do just fine keeping our legacy alive."

"I wish I could go too."

"No you don't," George said. "Unlike us, you do have reasons to stay."

Playing dumb, I asked, "Reasons? What do you mean?"

Fred let go of me, and began chuckling away into his shoulder, but George pulled me away from earshot of his brother, meeting my eyes with such intensity that I knew that he was about to say something that seemed most important to him.

"You _know _he needs you, Gin. You've always known that you have a part to play in all of this, whatever it may be. You and Harry, you're connected by You-Know-Who for better or worse. And your wizards' bond is strong with him."

I must have opened my mouth at this point to object, but George cut me off before I could protest his epiphany.

"Don't deny it, either, Ginny. You wouldn't have come to us if you didn't still care about him. And for someone who seemingly has given up on the young Mister Potter, you sure do go out of the way to help him. So don't bother."

I closed my mouth, fighting back an onslaught of tears. _Dammit. I really hate when he does this sometimes; he's as perceptive as Hermione. _

George went on, "Now, I hate to admit this, but I've seen you two together, and whether _he_ knows it or not, you two compliment each other in such a way that I've never seen in any other two people—except for Ron and Hermione, but they just remind me of Mum and Dad—sheesh!" he said, shuddering as though he'd just pictured in his mind Ron and Hermione kissing like our parents, forcing me to smile through my tears.

"So don't worry about us okay. We'll talk to Harry and make sure that he gets a chance to talk to Sirius. You just stay here at Hogwarts and raise some hell for us okay?"

Jerking my head up and down quickly in a nod back at him, I choked out, "Okay."

I began to walk back alone towards the common room when Fred called back to me, "Hey Gin, one more thing—"

"Yes?"

"It would be to your best advantage to stay clear of here around five o'clock day after tomorrow, all right?"

"Right."

_Like hell I would._ Leave it to Fred and George to keep things interesting here at Hogwarts. And this was promising to make one _spectacular_ show. I couldn't possibly miss it.

The word "anxious" can't possibly describe how I felt for the next two days. I was even biting my nails out of nervousness (something I haven't done in a very long time). Of course, I tried to get more information out of the twins, but as always, when about to pull a prank; they seemed to have mysteriously disappeared from the halls of Hogwarts. I even tried to snoop around the east wing, especially by Gregory the Smarmy, going out of my way in hopes to catch a glimpse of a clue about what they had in store. But all I could do was pick out a nearby corner to watch from without being noticed. After all, I was a Weasley, and if Umbridge or her Slytherin band of bullies caught me anywhere near there, I was sure to be questioned about it.

After lunch on the first day of the new term, I noticed that Harry seemed on edge as well. It was obvious to me that he was anxiously awaiting his chance to talk to his Godfather, which was only contributing more to my own anxiety that day. I also noticed that Hermione was hounding him. After all, it was her duty as a Prefect to warn him of the severe consequences he would have, if he were caught. Leave it to Hermione to be stressed out by the whole situation. Strangely, Ron seemed perfectly calm about it, and said nothing to Harry. I figured he assumed that Harry's mind was made up, and unlike Hermione, had given up on trying to talk him out of it.

Leaving Divination, I began my habitual route towards the common room to put my books away before dinner in the Great Hall. I checked my watch. It was nearly Four Forty-five._ Dammit! _There was no time; I would be sure to miss it if I went back to the common room now.

As I tried to hurry past the waves of students in the hallway, I noticed Harry walking up one of the staircases alone, without Ron and Hermione. I wondered vaguely how on earth he would be able to talk to Sirius through the floo network, as the only floo that was not monitored was probably in Umbridge's office.

_Oh my God, he is going to sneak into Umbridge's office! Is he completely mad?_

You would think that I would have figured this out as part of the twins' plan at this point, but I was so preoccupied by Fred and George's own grand scheme to leave Hogwarts, that I never gave it a second thought until now. Harry was going to sneak into Umbridge's office, using Fred and George's prank as a diversion, and talk to Sirius with her own floo. With a new set of panicked thoughts racing through my head, I suddenly felt like Hermione. _I can't believe this! This is totally nutters! What if he gets caught? He will be expelled for sure this time! _

I was torn. Should I stay to support my brothers, or should I go to help Harry just in case he needed it. I bit my lip. It took only a millisecond to make up my mind. Before I could get up to collect my books, there was a very audible "POP!" down the hallway, and I stepped back against the wall in shock. I heard a couple of screams down the hallway and took in a whiff of a peculiar, but faintly familiar smell. It was Stinksap.

Peeking my head out of the corner, I was shocked to see a tremendous amount of vines and swampy foliage quickly crawling across the floor and walls. As I began to step back from the greening walls and ceiling, I saw Harry on the other side of the corridor, hurrying in the opposite direction of the flow of students, who were now crowding towards the obvious diversion in hordes. Suddenly he was out of sight. Turning around to follow him, I suddenly felt the grip of long fingers firmly holding me back.

"Let him go, Gin," I heard Ron's voice saying quietly. "He needs to do this alone."

I closed my eyes, bowing my head in understanding. Ron was right. It was Harry's decision to go, and the repercussions were now on him if he was caught. If I were to go after him and help him now, I could very well make the situation worse. Turning around, I allowed my older brother to engulf me in a hug, tuning out the chaos around us for just a moment. Behind Ron, Hermione's voice suddenly caught my attention.

"The crowd is moving towards the Great Hall, Ron," she said worriedly, "What are the twins playing at anyway? Don't they know they will be caught?"

Lifting my head, I said solemnly, "Not tonight."

Ron took me gently by the shoulders and pushed me away just enough to look me in the eye. "Gin, what _are_ they doing?"

I looked at my brother in astonishment. _They didn't know? Fred and George had kept their plan a secret from their little brother as well? _

"They're leaving Hogwarts, Ron," I said in disbelief.

Ron's eyes widened in horror, but all he could do was swear under his breath, which caused Hermione to exclaim, "Ron!" herself. But as I thought on it more, I figured it was perfectly understandable for the twins not to tell him. Ron and Hermione were now both Prefects and being privy to that kind of information would have possibly forced them to turn them in.

Not hesitating a moment further, Ron pulled me by the arm, and made for the stairs in a dead run, not even looking back at Hermione as he shouted, "Come on!"

But by the time we reached the entrance hall, just outside the Great Hall, we were too late. We shoved past a group of Hufflepuffs to find Fred and George kicking off from the ground on their broomsticks in front of Umbridge, the Inquisitorial Squad, teachers, ghosts and the rest of the entire school.

Fred shouted back at Peeves, who watched the entire scene with awe, "Give her hell from us, Peeves!" Peeves gave Fred and George a salute of honor, as my twin brothers both soared out the front doors into the free world.


	5. Winners and Losers

**_Chapter Five: Winners and Losers_**

****

I can't say that I was truly thrilled about the upcoming Quidditch match against Ravenclaw. The Gryffindor team was still down the two best Beaters and the best Seeker they'd had in ages. I was still extremely nervous about filling that particular Seeker's broom. After all, who am I to take the place of Harry Potter?

_What am I saying? Sometimes I sound like I'm still in First Year, don't I? Honestly, I'm beginning to sound like Ron!_

The loss of Fred and George as Beaters and Harry as Seeker couldn't compare to Ron's Quidditch skill as a Keeper, which at most, had been less than mediocre. Sure, he had done well during all the practices. You could even say that he was good. Not up to Oliver Wood standards–not yet. But, good all the same.

Unfortunately, poor Ron always seemed to get stage fright during the actual matches. He was so awful that even Slytherin House even made up that bloody song _'Weasley is our King'_.

_Weasley cannot save a thing,_

_He cannot block a single ring,_

_That's why Slytherins all sing:_

_Weasley is our King._

_Weasley was born in a bin,_

_He always lets the quaffle in,_

_Weasley will make sure we win,_

_Weasley is our King._

It accomplished what they had meant, and they kept singing it during every match. The song's lyrics solidified his total humiliation and drained every last ounce of confidence from him. I can't even begin to tell you what this did to the team's morale.

Personally, I felt awful for Ron. He had finally gotten the chance he'd been waiting for since he walked though the doors to Hogwarts, and now it seemed his dreams of being a Quidditch star were disappearing into the Dark Forest.

After last night's dismal Quidditch practice, I found Ron hiding out in the corner of the locker room. Although Angelina pretended to be optimistic at the end of practice, the team left the pitch with a look of dread, and Ron himself, seemed mortified at the prospect of another humiliating game.

"It can't be all bad, Ron." I called out into the dark corner, where my brother stood staring at he pitch out the window.

"Ginny, look around," he answered blandly, not looking away from the window, "Nobody wants me to be here."

"Oh come on, Ron! You know that's not true. Angelina has faith in you. You wouldn't be on the team if she didn't. You just have to stop being so damn nervous all the time!"

Ron sighed heavily, still refusing to look at me. In a hushed voice, creaking with despair, he said, "I can't help it, Ginny. I keep hearing Fred and George in my head, telling me how lousy I am. Then when those Slytherin gits sing that song . . ."

"Look Ron," I huffed, not giving him the chance to sink deeper. "Fred and George are gone now. Quite honestly, I can't understand why on _earth _you would listen to them You _know_ Fred and George, and yet you are actually listening to them? Shall I call St. Mungo's Hopeless Case Ward for you? You know better than that, Ron. How long have they been playing Quidditch with you at home? Don't you think they would have said something before you decided to try out for the team if you were that terrible?"

Ron's head dropped a bit. "Thanks Gin, but I don't think anything will help me now."

Irritated, I got up and made for the door. _He's hopeless. He doesn't even want to believe! _But by the time I reached the door, I stopped and turned around. I had to say _something_ encouraging to him.

"Fred and George know you can do this, Ron. I know you can do this. Even you know you can do this, Ron! You just have to have some confidence in your abilities. We can all see it, why won't you? "

Honestly, I thought the worst part about the upcoming match against Ravenclaw was that I had no idea where Michael and I stood in our relationship. I knew things were coming to a head. The agonizing part was waiting around for the end result. Deep down I knew that this game would somehow decide once and for all, what was to happen to us. It seems strange, how quickly the fire and passion can be put out for one relationship, and yet, for another relationship, it _never_ seems to die out–no matter how hard you might try to extinguish the flame.

The only thing Michael said to me that morning was a simple "good luck" on the game. Even then, I could tell his reaction was cold and forced. He merely kissed me on the forehead–a dead giveaway that he no longer had feelings for me. Honestly, I thought my own Mum kissed me with more passion than he had that morning. Michael left the Great Hall without saying another word.

An hour later, I was flying onto the pitch with the rest of the Gryffindors. As the brisk morning breeze whipped against my face, I looked for Michael in his usual spot in the stands. I was ready to take even the slightest amount of moral support from my estranged boyfriend. Much to my surprise, he was there, cheering excitedly and waving his hands at me after all.

Even now, I'm not sure what it was that made me do it. Perhaps it was to simply feel the self-satisfaction that she was the one alone now, without Harry's support, while I still had Michael cheering me on. I glanced back at Cho with satisfied smirk on my face.

I could not have been more wrong.

Cho was looking back at the stands as well. Oddly enough, in the same place that I'd been waving back at Michael.

For a moment, I thought I heard him say it, but I don't know how I could have, after all, there were hundreds of people cheering along side Michael at the same time. But I _definitely_ saw him mouth the words, "Good luck Cho!"

Right in front of me.

The Ravenclaw seeker waved shyly back at the stands, tilting her head down as a blush crept onto a face that not even her long, flowing plaits of black hair could cover. Michael hadn't been waving at me. Not for a moment. He had been cheering for Cho Chang.

My smirk quickly turned into a thin crease of lips, as my brow sank lower than the Chamber of Secrets. I couldn't bloody believe it. First, she went out with Harry, merely to use him to vent her pent up feelings for an old dead boyfriend (Cedric was a good bloke too) at that. Then, she threw Harry away like a crumpled up piece of tissue, not even knowing how special he really is. And now, without a second thought to Harry–or me for that matter–she was jumping right into openly flirting with Michael. _My boyfriend Michael._

_Has she no shame whatsoever? Just because she has a pretty face, does she think that she can get whatever she wants?_

_Well, not today sister. Enough is enough. Today this sodding bitch is going down._

As Madam Hooch called for the game to begin, I swung by her, in an obvious nudge to let her know that I had seen everything.

"Oops, sorry about that. I'm so clumsy on this thing sometimes!" I said casually, trying not to clench my teeth in anger. And as we took our positions, I even tried to stare her down, but it was obvious that she was avoiding any sort of eye contact.

_Oh Please, could you look guiltier?_

The game began as I expected it to, with Roger Davies of Ravenclaw almost immediately making a goal. Ron failed miserably trying to block it. I flew in closer to give Ron some words of encouragement, when suddenly Bradley came from behind me towards Ron. He nearly took my head off as he flew at my brother in the attempt to make a feint.

Only this time, I noticed a strange gleam in Ron's eyes as he moved towards the goal to block the Ravenclaw. But this time he actually succeeded. I nearly fell off my broom in astonishment. Then, one after the other, Ron consistently blocked the Ravenclaw's attempts to make goals, no matter how difficult it seemed.

I couldn't, however, spend too much time in shock over the whole thing. I had a Snitch to catch.

I took a position above the pitch to have better view of everything that was going on during the game. I flew around for what seemed like ages, trying desperately to make out a slight gleam of gold on the pitch. He seemed to think that Cho would follow my lead when looking for the Snitch. In this Harry seemed to have given me bad advice.

_Has the girl no shame? Honestly!_

Cho was at it again; making "casual" passes near the stands where Michael was sitting. I nearly flew over to her, wanting to grab her by one of those long, black plaits of hair and fling her off her broom. The funny part was I wasn't entirely sure if it was out of jealously, or the irritation at her for not keeping focused on the game.

Not that I was doing much better. I continued to marvel at my brother's sudden bout of Keeping skills on the Quidditch pitch. Left. Right. Up. Down. Every time a Ravenclaw Chaser came near him, Ron would be there, blocking every shot they attempted. He was amazing.

If only Fred and George were here to see him._ Oh, who am I kidding? They would still be making fun of him. No doubt about that at all. I wouldn't be surprised if they were the real reason that Ron had such stage fright before now._

I looked back towards the Ravenclaw goals. Cho was still flipping her hair and making mooneyes at the stands. I just couldn't believe that Michael could be swayed by the flip of that nitwit's hair.

Honestly! He obviously wasn't the bloke I thought he was. _Ah, bollocks! To hell with the both of them! They deserve each other if they are going to act like this! Stupid gits. Wait a minute . . ._

_Is that the Snitch?_

It was—fluttering only a meter below Cho Chang. Best of all, she was so busy flirting with Michael that she hadn't seen it yet.

Without hesitation, I hugged my Cleansweep as close to my body as possible and shot off towards the goal post. The Snitch moved up the post towards Cho, who still hadn't seen it. When she finally noticed me coming straight at her, her eyes widened in horror. Sitting stock still on her broom, she looked back to Michael in the stands as if he could provide some sort of answer. She thought I was coming after her!

As always, the Snitch seemed to sense me closing in, and changed directions, veering off to the left and back onto the field. It was too late for me to slow down before I made it to the pole. Cho sat there motionless, with her watery, frightened doe-eyes staring straight at me as if I were about to crash into her. The problem was, there was a very good chance that I might do just that.

Thinking fast, I slowed as much as I could, held out my left arm and crooked it, in an attempt to swing around the goal post. I made it around the goal post, but just barely. Luckily, I slowed just enough to not break my arm. I didn't gob up my arm like Harry is always doing. My arm was still bloody sore for several hours afterwards, but it was so worth it.

That's when I saw the Snitch, which had made its way right under Cho Chang's pert little upturned nose. I snatched it up and ended the game right there.

With my catch, and Ron's brilliant keeping, the crowd was now roaring a new rendition of "Weasley is Our King", which contained far better lyrics than the Slytherin version. I could hardly contain the pure joy for Ron's amazing turnaround in the match. The team hoisted him up on their shoulders and carried him off the field, himself yelling with happiness, the Quidditch Cup held tightly in his hands.

As I followed the mass of Gryffindors off the pitch, I looked back to the field, and saw Cho. Her face seethed with anger, as she flung her broomstick onto the ground and stormed off the pitch.

I smiled. _That was for Michael, Chang._ But the smile began to fade as I started to wonder if I hadn't lost that game already.

That evening the denizens of Gryffindor Tower thoroughly enjoyed our victory. Unfortunately, the night was a restless one for me. I couldn't help but think about Michael and Cho all night. The way he was looked at her made me ill, as if there was a great weight in the pit of my belly. It was plaguing me. I had to know once and for all, if Michael and I had anything left to salvage. I caught up to Michael the next morning on his way to the Great Hall for breakfast.

"Hey, Michael!" I shouted, waving him down.

"Wuh—oh, Ginny! Hello there. Er, Good game yesterday," he said, looking unsure of what to say. I decided not to play games with him.

"Where were you last night, Michael? Why didn't you come celebrate with me?"

"What do you mean, Gin?" Michael said rather uncomfortably as he ran his hand through his hair the way he always did when he was nervous.

"Don't play daft, Corner. Where did you go after the game?"

"Well," he said innocently. "I met up with Cho. She's going through a tough time right now. I was comforting her all evening."

_I'll bet he was. _"Comforting?"

"Of course. Ravenclaw_ did _lose the match after all. She was all in a tither about that move of yours. It took an hour to finally calm her down. But honestly, she was still rather upset about Marietta. She actually believed that you were right about her betrayal of the D.A. and I spent the most of the evening convincing her it was simply a misunderstanding."

I can't tell you how difficult it was to keep from rolling my eyes just then"And then what?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"And then we talked."

"Talked? About what?"

"About Cedric . . . and Potter. You know, I don't think Harry appreciates Cho nearly as much as he should. She really is quite a girl," He hesitated. "Once you get to know her and all."

"Oh please," I said harshly. "I can't believe you're acting like this. I'm your bloody girlfriend! Don't you even care how I feel?"

Michael stared at me as though I were mad. "What on earth do you mean, Ginny?"

"Don't pretend that you don't know, Michael. Even from the field I could see the way you were looking at her."

Mustering up a blank look upon his face, Michael tried to play the innocent, hurt party. "Looking at who?"

But of course, I'd had enough already. With an incredible anger surging through my veins, I let him have it.

"Michael, you were waiving at Cho. I thought you were there to support _me_."

"Of course I was there to support you, Gin. But you _were _playing against my house. Aren't I allowed to cheer them on too?"

I placed my hands on my hips in my most intimidating look, and said in an even voice, "Don't give me that 'I'm supporting my team' rubbish. You weren't cheering Ravenclaw on–you were cheering _her_ on."

"Ginny, what are you trying to say here? That I fancy Cho Chang?"

"Well, do you?"

"I'm seeing _you _Ginny. Cho is a friend. I've known _her_ since my first year, and she's been going through an exceptionally rough time this year, no thanks to _your_ friends Potter and Granger. Since Cedric died, she hasn't been able to get close to anyone except for Marietta. She needed someone to talk to."

"You know Michael, if I didn't know better, I'd say you fancy her and you are using this whole Marietta thing just to get close to her!"

"Ginny! Cho and I are friends, nothing else. She needed me to be there for her, and I was. I can't believe you're jealous!"

_Jealous? Me?_ _Of that dim witted little witch? That was it. I had had enough of all of this nonsense._

"Oh no, Michael Corner," I said as coolly as I could. "As far as I'm concerned you can have Cho Chang for all I care! Frankly, I think you two deserve each other."

I spun around and stormed off towards Gryffindor Tower. I was no longer in the mood for breakfast, and I swear I felt some dust get caught in my eye.


	6. Truth That Hurts

_**Chapter Six: Truth That Hurts**_

"Ginny. Ginny, are you all right?" I heard Hermione's soft voice speak from behind my dorm room door.

"I'm fine Hermione. Just leave me alone."

"You're not all right. I could hear you crying from down the hallway for the last half hour."

She was right. I wasn't okay. But she was wrong about crying for the last half hour. It was more like a good portion of the day. There were moments during the last week or so where I was just fine. I would stop crying, go downstairs, and be able to stand being around other people, but that would never last. The mere mention of the Quidditch final would flood me with thoughts of Michael with that tart, and it would just send me into another depression. Then I would have to run back up to my room and mope to myself.

"Come on, Ginny, you have to be at least hungry," she pleaded. Then, with a slight teasing in her voice she said, "I have a plate of food from the kitchens for you. I know you have to be hungry, Ginny. No one has seen you since before breakfast."

Well, I couldn't deny that I was quite a bit hungry. Okay, a lot hungry. "Come in," I said, dully.

Hermione pushed the door with her elbow and walked into my room, carrying a tray with some beef stew and bread, a few pieces of fruit and some pumpkin juice to wash it down with. I was hesitant at first, just sitting there, as she silently watched me eat; it didn't take long for me to ignore her almost completely as I wolfed down my supper.

She waited until I was nearly done before she spoke again. "Well, now that you've calmed down a bit, why don't you tell me what has happened that has made you so upset lately."

I took another bite of bread. "It was awful, just awful," I said, pausing for a moment to swallow. "Michael and I got into a fight after the Quidditch final."

"About what?"

"Cho Chang," I sighed, grabbing the glass of pumpkin juice to keep myself preoccupied so I wouldn't cry again. "I think he's beginning to fall for her. What is it with guys and her, anyway?"

Hermione nodded her head and sighed. "I figured as much. It seemed rather obvious, with the way you had been acting after the match. So, did you try talking to him about it?"

"Of course. However, he's such a liar; he denied everything. I was so angry. I just ended up walking away. I couldn't deal with it. I can't believe he would do this to me! It's just so immature!" I took another swig of pumpkin juice, but I nearly spat it all over the bed after what I heard next.

"Ginny, if anyone is being immature, it's you."

_Bloody hell, did I just hear my best friend correctly? Immature? Me? Now I know she didn't say that! I think the stress of studying for the O.W.L.S. is finally getting to her at last._

"Hermione!" I snapped. I could feel the tears beginning to well up again in anger. "How could you say that? Are you saying that you're on his side?"

Cocking her head to the side with her usual stern look, Hermione defended herself. "No, of course not. But it also sounds like you don't have the whole story either. I'm surprised at you, Ginny. You're much more sensible than this. You know that nothing good comes from miscommunication–believe me, I know this firsthand."

What she had been referring to was a no-brainer. Hermione and Ron had been studying more than any witch or wizard should for the O.W.L.S. lately. For once, they weren't biting each other's head off. In fact, they were actually enjoying each other's company. All that studying seemed excessive, even for Hermione, and especially for Ron, who could hardly sit down to study for anything as it was. But, neither seemed to mind it too much. In fact, now that I thought about it, they had been practically inseparable since the Quidditch final. Even before the match, whenever I asked either one of them about it, they both said they were helping each other study. _Studying? HA! The only studying that had been going on there was of each other._

"But Hermione…"

Hermione pulled out a handkerchief and dried my already moistening eyes. "No buts, Ginny. Now I want you to finish you supper, clean yourself up, and come downstairs to relax a while. Tomorrow, you can talk to Michael tomorrow after the O.W.L.S.—sensibly this time. Give him the respect that he deserves. I think you will be surprised by the outcome."

I nodded in agreement. Oddly enough, Hermione did make sense. I should have listened to Michael. Though it might be the end of us, I couldn't just let it end in this manner. I needed to talk this out with him. He deserved that just as much as I did. Besides, the peculiar look in Hermione's eye, an almost frantic twitch, gave me the distinct impression that because it _was_ so close to the end of the O.W.L.S., she might have hexed me out of nervousness if I hadn't said yes.

Without another word, she pulled me off the bed and shoved me towards the loo.

It took me all morning and a good part of the afternoon before I could finally face Michael again. Having been able to leave Charms class early, I waited for him to finish his History of Magic exam. I paced nervously back and forth in the foyer in front of the Great Hall, desperately trying to figure out what to say to him.

I looked at the clock on the nearby wall. Nearly four o'clock. The exams would be finishing, and, soon enough, I would face him. _Oh, bloody hell! What am I going to say to him?_

Suddenly, the doors to the Great Hall burst open with an old wizard carrying out someone I didn't expect -- Harry.

Jumping behind the railing of the marble staircase that led upstairs, I listened closely to the conversation. Harry, who looked absolutely horrible with sweat dripping from his brow and his hair in more disarray than usual, appeared to have passed out during the O.W.L.S., and was now trying to convince the professor that he was fine. However, as the man went back inside the Great Hall, Harry suddenly leapt up the stairs.

_What was that all about? I wonder if Harry's okay. Perhaps I should go after him. What am I saying? I'm here to see Michael, not run like an idiot after Harry Potter! Focus, Weasley! Michael is in the Great Hall . . . perhaps he knows what happened to him–_

The bell suddenly rang, and the doors to the Great Hall opened, along with the doors of all the other classes around me. A flood of students rushed into the hall, and I almost had to shove my way through the crowd just to find Michael. I noticed Hermione and Ron coming out as well, and as I waived to her and my brother, she regarded me, nodding her head towards the hall, and giving me a wink of good luck.

I walked into the hall. There were a few students left handing in their exams. Neville Longbottom, a friend since my first year, was at the desk, looking rather reluctant to hand over his exam. The professor I had seen earlier with Harry was standing over him pointing at the hourglass at the front of the hall.

Smiling inwardly at Neville, I glanced around the room. Cho Chang was standing in front of one of the desks, packing away her ink and quill. She moved aside, revealing Michael in the desk, talking up to her enthusiastically.

I stood there, paralyzed for a moment, staring blankly at the couple, until Michael stopped suddenly, noticing me standing there. He spoke a few more words to Cho and she turned around and made for the door, walking briskly past me. I was so nervous; my stomach felt like it was full of Doxys, and my legs felt like someone had cursed me with "jelly legs". If Cho had been petty enough to brush by me hard as she passed me, I would have surely fallen over.

"Can I speak with you for a moment, Michael?" I asked meekly.

"Why, come to find out what happened to Potter?" Michael spat back indignantly. "To tell you the truth, I don't know what happened to him—or care for that matter." I looked at him blankly, waiting for the next blow, but his face softened a moment. "Look, I don't want to fight with you anymore, Gin. Now if you'll excuse me, my _friend _is waiting for me in the courtyard." He walked past me out of the hall, and I followed him into the foyer.

_Now what do you suppose he meant about Harry? What on earth does he have to do with anything? _My temper flared, and I began to clench my teeth in anger. "I didn't come here to fight with you," I said, making it sound more like a hiss than I'd meant it to. "I just wanted to say…"

"No, Ginny. There is nothing more that you can say to me -- no more than what's already been said. Now please, Cho is waiting for me."

"The world does not revolve around Cho Chang!"

"Well it doesn't revolve around Harry Potter either!"

_What? Revolve around Harry? _"Michael, what are you talking about?"

"I _know_, Ginny. As I think about it really, I've always known. I see it every time you look at him. It's written all over your face."

I paused a moment to let his words sink in. And slowly, I felt my face begin to heat up. Michael continued as the blush spread across my face.

"I thought it was just the remnants of an old crush," he began as I looked at him in astonishment. "Yes, I knew about that. I remember what happened to you our first year, and I don't doubt that it caused you to have certain feelings about him. I thought that if I loved you enough, you would get over it. But even _now_ you are thinking of him."

Not knowing what else to do, I tried to save face. "Michael, how can you say that? Harry is ancient history!"

"It's quite obvious to me how you feel about him, Ginny. In fact, it's quite obvious to everyone, except you and Potter. You love him."

"I do not," I said in vain. _You don't know how I feel. How could you possibly know what I feel?_

"Yes you do. And don't try to play it off," Michael said, looking right through me with eyes squinted in anger. "Look Ginny, let's be honest with each other for once. Yes, maybe I _do_ have some feelings for Cho. And I know it's been very unfair to you the way I've been behaving recently. But let's face it, we haven't exactly been on the _best _of terms lately."

I felt my anger with Michael fade away, and a fair amount of guilt beginning to rise as a lump in my throat. "I know."

Michael looked like he wanted to cry too. "Ginny, I love you, very much. But honestly, I'm not sure that I can be with you. And as for Cho, she is like me in so many ways. More than you've ever been. Honestly, I know she'd be able to give me something that you will never be able to."

"And what is that, precisely?" I said sarcastically.

"Your heart, Ginny."

_Hey, there's no need to lay on the guilt any more than necessary, I have just enough of my own thank you._ "That's unfair Michael, and you know it."

"Is it unfair? Is it?" Michael said with a bitter tongue. "Is it unfair that you always seem to have a reason not to be with me? That you have more fun with your friends and family than you do with me? Why should I have to compete with someone who quite obviously isn't out of your heart? You know, I can't even remember the last time I saw you smile?"

"You've seen me smile, Michael."

"Well if you have, it certainly wasn't because of me," Michael snapped. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself. He sighed deeply and said, "Let's just face it; we've been living a lie for months. Ginny, it's over between us. The sooner we both accept that, the better off we'll be. I'm sure of it.

And with those words, Michael Corner walked away from me forever.

Never, since the Chamber of Secrets had I felt such a loss of control in my life. In fact, I'd taken measures to structure my life in order to prevent this from happening.

Michael was a safe, reliable bloke that I knew would never hurt me. But now, his relationship with Cho had become all too unbearable, and I felt as out of control as I did with Tom Riddle.

I pushed open the large doors to the castle and I walked outside onto the stone steps, feeling the sun on my face. I wanted to run away - away from all the hurt and pain - away from Michael, Cho, and Harry. But I just stood there, looking out towards the lake, feeling helpless and wondering how, with everything that had happened, it had all come to this.

Sitting on the steps for some time, I waited for the tears to come, but they wouldn't. Strangely, I felt more relief than anything. I actually _felt_ okay. It was just plain odd.

"Oh, hello there Ginny," Luna said without surprise in her voice, as usual. "I thought I saw you out here."

At first, I wanted to tell her to go away. Luna was the last thing I needed at the moment. But I allowed her to sit beside me, realizing that as bizarre and complicated as life can be, there is nothing like a little Luna Lovegood to put things in perspective for you -- well, it couldn't hurt anyway.

"I never mentioned how wonderfully you played in the Quiddtich final, Ginny." Luna said, still staring up at the towers of the school. The compliment took me by surprise. I spoke softly as I continued to stare at the glistening still waters of the lake.

"Oh . . . thanks, Luna."

"I've never seen Cho Chang so unfocused." Luna continued on without any regard to me. "I can't _imagine_ how simple it was to catch the Snitch from right under her nose. Very impressive."

"Yes, I suppose it was," I said with another sigh.

Luna giggled. "For a moment there, I thought you were going to kill her for flirting with Michael like that, before I realized it was the Snitch you were after."

"Believe me; I wanted to, but…" I looked up from staring at the lake. _How did she know that? Was it that obvious? _"Luna," I began slowly. "Did you _see_ Michael and Cho flirting together?"

"Of course, didn't you?" Luna said as though it were common knowledge. "But I don't understand why you would be crying so; you'd think you'd be happy for him after all."

_Happy?_ "I confronted Michael about Cho, but he denied it all." I said. "Why on earth would you think I would be pleased about that?"

"Well, now you are freed up to seek other interests."

_Other interests? Maybe she really is loony. She sounds like a salesman!_

"I don't know what you might be referring to, Luna," I said hastily. _What else could she be on to?_

"Sorry, it's just that I never felt like you and Michael ever made a good match. I merely meant that there are plenty of other players on the pitch for you to choose from." She got up from the bench and brushed herself off. "Well, I must be off now. I have an essay to finish for Potions. For some reason, Professor Snape is not too keen on love potions, and he wants me to rewrite it. I can't imagine why . . ." I watched Luna walk away in her usual way, as though she was staring off into a dimension wholly unto herself.

I sat there looking up at the sky, pondering Luna's words. _Seek other interests? Other players on the pitch? What is she playing at? Now wait a bloody minute, she can't mean—_

_Bloody hell! Isn't' there anyone at Hogwarts who believes that I'm not in love with Harry Potter?_ I got up and started off behind her. "Hey Luna wait up!" She stopped and waited for me to catch up to her. "Luna," I started, unsure of what to say and how to say it. I walked with her quietly upstairs, trying to muster up the courage to ask a question I already knew the answer to.

_All right, I admit, perhaps I have some residual crush feelings left, but I'm working on getting that out of my system. I'm not totally obsessed or anything like I used to be. I've grown up since then. I mean it's not like I can hear his voice in my head like Tom Riddle. I'm not nutters, you know!_

_So why for Merlin's sake can I suddenly hear Harry's voice? And screaming, at that?_

_Damn._


	7. The Madness of Dolores Umbridge

_**Chapter Seven: The Madness of Dolores Umbridge**_

**__**

_Hey! What's with the tone, Potter? All I asked was "What's going on"?_

At once, I knew Harry was upset. He'd never snap at anyone otherwise -- that is, until recently. Unfortunately, for the rest of us, Harry's mood swings were becoming increasingly frequent. Was his angry tone a reaction from what had happened to him during his O.W.L.S.? I didn't know for sure, but honestly, there was no need to be so snippy with me -- or Luna, for that matter.

I wasn't about to back down, either. _Get stuffed Potter!_

Paying no attention to Harry's rather rude attitude towards me, I kept an even temper and offered to help him, Ron, and Hermione out. I'd had enough arguments with the opposite sex for one day; I wasn't about to try and start another one. Harry got short with me again, and I nearly threw my temper out the window as I contemplated doing the same to 'The Boy Who Lived'. _And people believe I'm in love with this moody little prat? I would never be in love with anyone so bloody boorish!_

It was then that Hermione suddenly had a plan. She sounded extremely desperate to help Harry understand the danger of his sudden impatience. You see, Harry was rather insistent that Sirius was not at home, but at the Department of Mysteries instead.

Hermione, however, was sure that, with the burden of responsibility Harry often felt with the so-called title of "savior" of the Wizarding world, Harry was often taken with a bit of a "save the world" complex. This was a subject Hermione and I had discussed many times before in private. I'd agreed with her about most of it, but then again, she'd never dealt with the Dark Lord on a personal level. So I supposed I could have sympathized with Harry about that, even though he didn't always remember that I too, had dealt with him and lived through it. Hermione was convinced that You-Know-Who was tricking Harry in some way as a trap. I silently agreed. It was a frightening thought that sent a shiver down my spine -- that is, until I opened my mouth in the midst of my own confusion.

"Sure, we'll help!" I offered.

_What the hell am I saying? I must be going mad! Why on earth am I offering to help him? He never even thanked me for helping him talk to Sirius the first time! Okay, so I let him think it was Fred and George's idea, but that's beside the point! I shouldn't be helping him right now; I should be hexing him, that ungrateful git!_

I don't know what caused me to offer to help so quickly, because it wasn't his attitude, that's for certain. Before I knew it, I was in the corridor outside Professor Umbridge's office with Luna, creating a distraction for Harry and Hermione. The plan was for her and Harry to sneak into Professor Umbridge's office -- the only room with a fireplace that wasn't being watched, so that Harry could contact Sirius at Grimauld Place.

From what I gathered, Harry felt that Sirius was in some sort of danger, and as much as he meant to Harry, I didn't hesitate to help. After all, aside from my family, and Sirius being his Godfather and all, he was the only family Harry had, as well as one of the few connections he had to his parents. While Luna and I would be used as lookouts for Harry and Hermione, Ron would go and try to head Umbridge off before she came back to her office, spouting off about Peeves creating some disaster, or the like.

As a distraction for clearing the corridor, I decided to go with someone who was letting off some Garroting Gas, fondly remembering that I overheard Fred and George planning to do it before they left. _Just grand. They leave, and I'm here to fend for myself with the likes of Hermione, Ron, and Mr. Wants-to-Save-the-World again._

As my plan began to work and the crowd of students began to die down, my thoughts betrayed me, as usual, and I began to fester about Harry's attitude. _That prat! Who the hell does he think he is anyway? Ever since Cedric died, he really has become such a whiny little git. Acting as if he were the only teenager with problems! Oh, I don't want to think about him. He's not worth my time anyway. Why, I ought to . . ._

"Hello Ginny," I heard Neville say brightly as he came down the corridor.

Neville Longbottom and I had been friends ever since my ordeal with the diary and Tom Riddle. I'd been so distraught in those first few days after the events in the Chamber of Secrets. Even worse, no one, not even my own family, had the courage to talk to me. I can understand now, of course, that the poor blokes had no idea what to say to me, nor did everyone else in Gryffindor House. I would have liked to talk with Hermione, but I had become rather uncomfortable talking to one of my best friends, whom I'd just happened to set a Basilisk on. I eventually got over it and talked to her, of course. However, at first, that was out of the question.

So there was no one. Then along came Neville.

I had been sitting in the corner of the Gryffindor common room, which I had claimed as my own for writing in the diary. For hours I sat there, staring at the wall, trying to let the events of the last year sink in. When suddenly, one evening, Neville came over and quietly sat down beside me. "I don't believe I've properly introduced myself. I'm Neville Longbottom."

Nodding slightly in acknowledgement, I continued to stare into the wall. "I know."

"Oh," he said, embarrassed. "I'm sorry. That's really silly of me. I really never know how to say things sometimes. Just as clumsy in words as in life I suppose." He paused, and suddenly he sounded more intent and confident in his words. "What I meant to say is that I understand. I know what it's like to have a part of yourself taken away from you. And, well, if you ever need to talk about it . . . well, I'm here."

Probably looking at him quite pitifully, I watched him pull out a handkerchief and hand it to me. That's all it took. I confessed everything to him. Aside from bits and pieces to my Mum and Hermione, Neville is the only one who I'd ever told about the diary of Tom Riddle and the Chamber of Secrets.

Soon, Neville and I became fast friends. I think that at some point in my second year, he even fancied me a bit. But he had given up the notion when he realized how infatuated I was with one of his dorm mates.

In fact, it was me that he had ended up taking to the Yule Ball the previous year. Really, he had wanted to take Hermione, as he had always found her interesting. Of course, I knew that Ron would never ask her, so I must admit I was rather shocked when I learned that she had accepted an invitation to the ball from Viktor Krum. In the end, I'd opted to go with Neville, knowing full well that certain individuals would never ask me. But we won't even go into that affair. That's all too depressing in and of itself.

Besides, if it hadn't been for Neville taking me to the ball, I would never have met Michael. I remember it so well . . .

How he had whisked me away, dancing on what seemed like a cloud after the toe crushing of my dear friend with two left feet. Oh, but I don't want to talk about him either.

"Hey, Neville," I said, trying to act casual, not knowing whether or not to let him in on the secret.

"I heard someone let off some Garroting Gas around here."

"Yeah, right over here," I pointed down the corridor. "I'm here letting people know. Look, you'd better get out of here before I get in trouble . . ."

"What do you mean, Gin?"

Honestly, I must have the worst karma in the world, for at that very moment, trouble came around the corner.

"Weasley! Longbottom! What are you two doing down here?"

I heard the slow, deep drawl of Draco Malfoy as he crept around the corner of the corridor.

"Nothing, Malfoy," I said casually. "I was just telling Neville here that he'd better leave before he gets a whiff of the Garroting Gas that someone let off here down the hallway."

"Yes, so I've heard." Malfoy said slyly. "I've come to investigate for the Inquisitorial Squad." For a moment, I could have sworn that he had puffed out his chest just slightly. The gesture was so graceful, and yet so demanding of attention, that it would have put my own brother, Percy, to shame.

Realizing that it was far too late to begin a chorus of "Weasley Is Our King", I looked back to Luna, trying to catch her attention. I should have known that she was looking aimlessly down the hall, and in no way was I about to catch her attention. As Malfoy began his search of the corridor, I began to get worried for Harry and Hermione's safety. In desperation, I did the only thing that I could think to do -- I improvised.

"Neville," I began brightly, trying to ignore Malfoy's ferreting about, I said, "You know, it's been a while since I've heard you sing? And you have such a lovely voice. Would you like to sing a couple of verses of 'Weasley Is Our King' with me?"

Just the look on Neville's face was enough to tell me he thought I was mad. "Lovely singing voice?" he asked nervously, in a near whisper.

"Oh, you know you do, Neville." I said pressingly, scooting up to him and elbowing him in the arm. "Now don't be shy. Come on, I'll start…"

"That won't be necessary, Miss Weasley," said a delicate voice that filled me with dread.

Both of us turned around and we came face to face with Professor Umbridge, along with Crabbe, Warrington and Bulstrode, their wands at the ready. As if that wasn't bad enough, Ron was in their custody, struggling under Warrington's right arm, with a freshly split lip. "In fact," Umbridge continued, "I believe boisterous singing might need to be included in the next Educational Decree, don't you think?"

She shoved past Neville and myself and called to Malfoy, who was just arriving at her office door. "Anything here?" she asked.

"No…" Malfoy began, but quickly stopped, and put up his hand, signaling for silence.

Umbridge spun around with a devilish look upon her face. "What are you really doing here, Miss Weasley?" she asked softly.

"There was Garroting Gas let off in the corridor, and I was just…"

"Don't lie, Miss Weasley. It's most unbecoming of a young lady your age."

I noticed that Malfoy was now nodding and smiling at the door. In horror, I again turned to Neville, who was beginning to realize what was happening, if only in part, and he grabbed my arm.

"Go!" he shouted without hesitation, and we ran past Umbridge and the Inquisitorial Squad towards the other end of the corridor, shouting at the still oblivious Luna.

"Luna, run!" I said, grabbing a hold of her arm as I ran past.

"After them!" I heard Umbridge shout, with a trampling of feet not far behind.

"What's going on, Ginny?" Neville huffed as I lead them down another corridor.

"No time, Neville. We have to get out of here!"

But it was too late. Another line of Slytherins headed us off at the other end of the corridor. I looked around, in the hopes of seeing an escape route, but to no avail.

We were caught.

Gagged and bound by the small band of Slytherins, Ron, Neville, Luna and I were lead into Umbridge's office, where, along with Malfoy, Umbridge was already interrogating Harry and Hermione.

I struggled relentlessly, attempting to loosen the strong grip of the rather large Slytherin girl holding my hands behind my back, with the hopes of somehow getting free and telling someone -- anyone who would listen really at this point.

Perhaps I could get a hold of Mum and Dad, who, I was sure, could contact Headmaster Dumbledore, though I couldn't even fathom where his whereabouts could be. Even the thought of reaching Percy filled me with a hope of escape, so I kicked and stomped back at the girl behind me.

I looked at my friends, trying to gain eye contact so that I could convey my plan. Neville, who was now being held by Crabbe, was nearly to the point of passing out by the strong hold around his neck. Luna, oblivious as usual, looked blandly around the room, unaware of the eminent danger we were all in. The only one who, like myself, was still struggling was Ron, chin and neck now bloodied from a cut on his lip. He was trying to worm his way out of the half-nelson the giant brute, Warrington, had him in.

Hermione, though not gagged like the rest of us, was being held back by Millicent Bulstrode, another fifth year Slytherin that Hermione despised with a passion. Umbridge sent Malfoy immediately for Snape. I figured she would need some sort of potion in order to get the defiant Harry to tell her what they were doing in her office.

When he arrived, Snape was seemingly unfazed by the obvious apprehension of us all. _How could he not care at all what was going on? What a rat bastard he was indeed!_

The only good that came out of the arrival of Snape was that when Umbridge demanded that he give her another vial of Veritaserum, he refused, claiming that she had used the last of his stores in a previous interrogation of Harry. There was a not so surprising superiority in his voice when he said that she should have only used a few drops and shouldn't have used it all up so quickly, and I smiled inwardly as he told her that it would take another month to cure up a new batch.

Umbridge was furious, to say the least, and I half expected her to fall to the floor like a child with a tantrum, when, in her anger, she screamed at him that he would be placed on probation. Snape made it more than apparent that he cared for Umbridge's authority about as much as our imprisonment and he turned to leave.

I was astounded when Harry began blurting out about someone having Padfoot at the "place where it's hidden". _Is he mad? Why is Harry trying to tell Snape about Sirius? And in code no less? Doesn't he know that Snape could care less? He couldn't be in the Order, could he?_

Snape did what anyone else expected from him: he plainly denied even knowing what Harry was talking about and quickly left the room.

Everyone looked back to Umbridge, who suddenly seemed very uneasy about something. She began muttering to herself and tapping her wand against the palm of her hand. Whatever it was she was muttering about, it couldn't have been good because I could see Malfoy's eyes brighten with an eager and excited look upon his face.

I nearly choked on my gag when Umbridge finally made her intentions known. She was going to use Cruciatus Curse on Harry. I was appalled. _An Unforgiveable Curse! Those who use it are sent to Azkaban forever! How could she? _

By now, it was evident that all reason had left Umbridge at the door and only her madness remained. I was surprised when she made a confession herself -- it was she who sent the Dementors after Harry over the previous summer, causing him to get into a heap of trouble with the Ministry of Magic because he ended up using magic to keep them from attacking him and his cousin. _How did this insane woman ever get a job in the Ministry?_ I was determined, more than ever, to free myself and figure out some means of escape.

That is, until Hermione began to cry, telling Umbridge that she would tell her everything. I couldn't believe my ears. Hermione, one of Harry's, as well as my own best friends was about to spill her guts! _I'm going to kill her!_

I wrestled even harder against my captor just to try to keep Hermione from talking. Ron was screaming at her through his gag not to do it, and even Millicent Bulstrode let go in shock as Hermione began to sob into her robes, crying miserably.

Umbridge however was delighted to finally get some answers, and threw Hermione into a chair, leering over her to hear her as clearly as she could.

The whole room suddenly became very still, when, in between sobs, Hermione admitted to making an attempt to contact Dumbledore. Ron and I both stopped our struggles and stared in amazement at the bloody brilliant actress before us.

Hermione went on to tell Umbridge about a weapon we had developed to use against the Ministry. That was all Umbridge needed. She demanded that Hermione show her the weapon. Hermione convinced to take her, along with Harry, to see the weapon, which she claimed was in the Dark Forest, leaving the rest of us behind in Malfoy's charge.


	8. The Art of the BatBogey Hex

_**Chapter Eight: The Art of the Bat-Bogey Hex**_

So here we are, the four of us: Ron, Neville, Luna and myself, all standing in Professor Umbridge's office waiting for the return of Umbridge, Harry and Hermione from the Dark Forest.

I was actually still quite stunned after the amazing boldfaced lie Hermione had fed to Umbridge only moments before. I couldn't wait to hear about what Hermione and Harry had in store for her in the forest. Despite my eagerness to find out what was happening in the Dark Forest, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of fear for Professor Umbridge. After all, the Dark Forest was forbidden to all students at Hogwarts, and many of the Professors claim that they wouldn't want to venture in there alone with all the deadly creatures roaming within it. Although Hermione, Ron and Harry have had several adventures in the forest, coming across giant spiders, centaurs, unicorns and even You-Know-Who himself, the Dark Forest was hardly a place anyone in their right mind would want to be.

But, enough pondering about that; I'm beginning to sound like my mum. Honestly, I really do believe that when it comes to the Dark Forest, Harry and Hermione had a much better chance than most people -- say, like Professor Umbridge. I must admit the thought was rather funny.

Apparently, I wasn't the only one. Ron, for some reason, also seemed to find the whole situation rather funny as well. Chuckling to himself lightly through his cut lip and bruises, you could see the obvious smile planted there.

Malfoy, on the other hand, had sat down in the chair behind Umbridge's desk, tapping his wand tip impatiently on it. Not remotely trying to hide the fact that he was very put out by the fact that Umbridge did not want him to come along; he was instead left behind with us.

After a few minutes, Malfoy began poking around Umbridge's desk, no doubt looking for some dirt or juicy gossip to use to blackmail someone.

I realized then, because of his hurt feeling about the situation, that Malfoy's guard was relatively down. In fact, as I looked about me, all of our captors seemed to be a bit lax now that Umbridge had gone. Now was the perfect chance to somehow find a way to free us and help Harry. Okay, Hermione too. First, we had to take care of Malfoy.

And the only way to snare a ferret is to bait him. But how?

"Are you sure that going through Professor Umbridge's desk is such a good idea, Malfoy?" I finally asked Crabbe, who, thankfully, loosened his grip around Neville's neck enough to bring the color back to his face.

Malfoy glanced up from a paper he was reading, rolled his eyes, and went back to the paper, ignoring Crabbe's hesitations.

However, Ron's laughter at this point became increasingly louder -- something that did catch Malfoy's attention. With a frown, he stood up from behind Umbridge's desk and made his way over to my brother. Like the rest of us, he couldn't figure out what the hell Ron was laughing about. And why was it so damn funny? When he finally stopped in front of Ron, I could see Warrington tighten his grip on Ron's arms. Not a good sign.

Considering him for a moment, Malfoy finally moved in closer to my mess of a brother, curiosity getting the best of him, and asked, "What on earth are you laughing at, you idiot weasel?"

By this time, Ron was in hysterics, laughing so hard through his gag that I was surprised he wasn't choking. Of course, this only irritated Malfoy even more. To my surprise, Malfoy began to unfasten the gag from Ron's mouth. "Dammit, Weasel, what is it?"

Shaking his head and laughing, it was all Ron could do in getting the words out. "Umbridge . . . she has no idea what she's gotten herself into!"

"What's in the forest, Weasel?"

Looking delirious, Ron went into another laughing fit. Malfoy nodded his head at Warrington, who held Ron fast as Malfoy sucker-punched him right in the gut, knocking the wind from him.

Screaming obscenities through my gag, Malfoy noticed me as well. "Hey Warrington, is that another Weasel I hear?" he asked his colleague as he left my brother doubled over in pain on the floor, gasping for air. I wanted desperately to wrench away from my own captor, but I had noticed that her hands were becoming sweaty and I needed to save my strength for the right moment. I did, however, put on a bit of a show on for Malfoy who stopped, and looked at me with phony surprise.

"Looks like we have a wild one here gang," Malfoy laughed teasingly. He held his hand up to his ear. "Wait a moment; I think the female wants to communicate! Let's see what she has to say. Hopefully it's more intriguing than the older Weasel."

The stupid git pulled down on my gag hard, the friction leaving a burning sensation on the back of my neck. "You really are a cowardly son of a bitch, Malfoy," I spat immediately. His actions suddenly reminded me of the brawl in Flourish and Blotts between our own fathers in my first year. "It would be the only way you _could_ hit a Weasley!"

A dark fire lit up in Malfoy's eyes, and he instantly went on an emotional defensive -- exactly the emotion I was going for. I'd noticed that he tended to become less physically aggressive when his ego was stunted.

"Oh, really?" Malfoy grinned, feigning surprise again. "And what would you know about it, you stupid Muggle lover? All _you_ do is follow Potter about all day like a silly little puppy. You'd do anything for your precious little _boyfriend_, wouldn't you? Oh wait, he's _not _your boyfriend, Corner is, isn't he? I don't know how he ever puts up with a crackpot girl like you when you act like that in front of other boys! What a dimwitted fool!"

That was the last straw. I'd had quite enough of everyone today telling me about how very much in love with Harry I was. This miserable dolt was about to get the hexing of a lifetime.

Gathering my strength for this moment, I tugged away hard from the hold the Slytherin girl hand on my shoulders, scratching my cheek with her fingernails as I did so.

Malfoy, still standing in front of me, did not feel any threat by my freedom for some reason. I'm sure he thought he could take me without a wand. Too bad for him.

"How many times do I have to say this? I'M NOT IN LOVE WITH HARRY POTTER!" With my last words, Malfoy felt the full force of the patented Weasley right-hook as my fist connected hard sharply with his nose, causing him to step back and cover his bleeding face.

I didn't hesitate to wait and find out whether or not it was broken. I held out my arm towards Umbridge's desk and bellowed, _"Accio Wand!"_ Before I had even finished the command, the wand was flying though the air, and within seconds, I had my wand firmly gripped in my hand.

What occurred next was the most chaotic course of events I'd ever known.

Straight away, I stunned the girl who had been holding me. The others took advantage of the distraction as well. Neville pushed back towards the wall, knocking Crabbe hard enough for him to release his grip on him for an instant. It was just long enough for Neville to charge directly at Warrington, who was crumpled on the hard stone floor, still laughing at Ron. Tackling him with all the force they had left, Neville and Warrington fell to the floor, punching each other furiously.

Ron, regaining his senses, rolled away from the flying fists of Neville and Warrington, and tried to get up from the floor, making his way towards the desk to retrieve the rest of the wands. Malfoy, face smeared with the still-flowing blood of his nose, saw Ron moving towards the desk, and pulled out his wand in an effort to stop him.

Of course, Malfoy, in his arrogance, did not notice me jump up right behind him.

"Not so fast, Malfoy!

Malfoy turned around, pointing his wand at me. _"Stu—"_

_"Batticulus!"_ I screamed, pointing my wand directly at his face, hitting him with the most beautiful Bat-Bogey Hex I'd ever performed. Even Fred and George would be proud. Not a centimeter of his face was left uncovered with madly flapping bat wings.

Screaming in terror, Malfoy flailed his arms about and ran around the room without knowing the direction in which he was going. He ran towards the wall near Professor Umbridge's desk, as the force of the spell hit against it, rendering Malfoy unconscious, bat wings still flapping all over his face, of course.

By this time, Ron had reached the desk and grabbed his wand. _"_Impedimenta!" he shouted as I watched him point his wand at the heap of Slytherins, which included Crabbe and Goyle. Goyle had let go of Luna, who wasn't fighting much to begin with. They joined in the fight with Neville and Warrington. Ron managed to get most of the Slytherins off them, but Warrington was now on top of Neville, straddling him as he repeatedly punched him in the face.

We managed to get most of the Slytherins off Neville and Warrington. I managed to stun Millicent Bulstrode before she could reach Luna, who as always, didn't seem surprised by the events going on around her. I turned back around to help Ron with Neville, but somehow Neville had reached into Warrington's robes, pulling out his wand and gripping it tightly, bellowed, _"Stupefy_!", sending Warrington across the room with a bolt of red light.

"Neville!" I cried, running over to his beaten body, which lay limp on the floor.

"That was a bloody brilliant hex you did back there, Gin," Ron said triumphantly, looking around the room at the almost lifeless bodies around us.

"Thanks," I said kneeling down to Neville, brushing his hair, which was soaked with blood, away from his forehead.

"Is everyone all right?" Neville asked wearily. His eye was beginning to swell up to the size of a Bludger.

"Yes, we're fine," I smiled, gently holding his arm to help hoist him up.

"Good," he panted. "Now will you please tell me what's going on, Ginny?"

"Yes, of course," I said with urgency in my voice, "But I have to tell you on the way. We have to find Harry and Hermione."

"I see them now, entering the Dark forest with Professor Umbridge," Ron said, peering out the window behind Umbridge's desk. "We'll have to hurry if we're to catch up with them in time."

Limping to the door, Ron held it open for us. "Let's go." He looked back at Luna, who was still standing there looking about the room, with the usual look of bewilderment. "Are you coming, Luna?"

"Yes of course," she said promptly, stepping over Millicent Bulstrode's legs to get to the door. "But may I ask, who is Padfoot?"

It was nearly dusk when we finally reached the Dark Forest. Along the way, I had given Neville and Luna the basics of what had just occurred. I tried as best I could to skim over such details that would reveal Harry's Godfather as non other than Sirius Black, the one and only escapee of Azkaban Prison. I skipped as well my shared suspicion with Hermione that this could be another ruse by You-Know-Who to have another go at Harry. Neville, despite his misgivings about the situation, faithfully came along anyway.

You wouldn't have thought so to look at him, but of all the Gryffindor traits that Neville Longbottom possessed, loyalty and courage were the most prominent. Granted, most everyone else, including many in his own house, debated whether or not Neville was even worthy of being in Gryffindor at all, but it was simply because they didn't know him. Neville was fiercely loyal, and although it may not have always shown through to most, he was truly a Gryffindor at heart.

As for his particular loyalty to Harry . . . well, for one, Harry didn't treat Neville like a bad case of warts as others did. For that, Neville was forever grateful. But, I don't believe it's only that. I think Neville believed, as did I, that he shared a special bond with Harry that no one else did -- the lost of his parents because of Voldemort.

Neville didn't talk about it much -- very rarely did he even mention them, saying he was going to visit them over holiday with his grandmum. Like Harry, he never really knew his parents. Sure, they were still alive, but having to grow up seeing your parents living at St. Mungo's as near vegetables -- and were likely to continue to be for the rest of their lives – is, in my opinion, far more horrible than never knowing them at all. Neville had to live with the pain of his parent's fate everyday. I can't even imagine the courage it took for him to deal with that.

Our strength returned to us as we entered the forest, searching for Harry and Hermione, and though we began to feel the pain of our wounds, we couldn't help but rejoice at our small triumph over the Slytherins.

"So, Ginny," Neville finally asked, the lump above his eye swollen up to nearly the size of a small grapefruit. "How on earth did you learn that amazing hex?"

Ron patted his shoulder as he stepped ahead of us to push some branches out of the way, "You forget who she's grown up with, dear Neville."

"Good point," Neville said wearily. He leaned in closer to me, "You promise to show me that one later, won't you?"

"Of course," I said with a grin.

At that moment, we spotted Harry and Hermione up ahead. I felt a bit of a lurch in my stomach, for they were both covered in blood, though they appeared to be all right -- no worse than the rest of us anyway.

Ron told Harry and Hermione, who looked rather shaken, what had happened in Umbridge's office as he handed back their wands. Harry quickly told them about their encounter with the Centaurs, as well as Grawp, Hagrid's little brother. _Hagrid has a little brother! Oh, Merlin help us all!_

Almost immediately, we began discussing how we would travel to London to save Sirius -- All but Luna of course. She was staring out into the forest, and suddenly suggested flying there. That is, of course, until Ron and Harry began ranting on about going without Neville, Luna and myself.

_How could he? After all we have done for him! Does he not remember at all that I too have gone up against You-Know-Who? And that was years ago! Besides, if it weren't for me, we'd still be putting up with Malfoy's horrible mug still!_

As I was bringing up this very point to Ron and Harry, Neville spoke up quietly. The D.A. was not a joke to Neville, and this was the first real chance for him to help Harry the way he always wanted to. I could tell by the look on his face that Harry felt that we were probably the last people he would want with him to save his Godfather, but we were there, and we were willing to help him in any way possible.

Besides, I think he grossly underestimated our abilities entirely.

It was then that Luna mentioned flying again, and pointed towards the woods. I knew what she meant even before Ron had asked. She could see some thestrals in the woods. Neville could see them too, as did Harry, who immediately walked towards the trees where Luna had pointed. But they were the only ones who could see them. For you see, in order to see thestrals, you have to have seen death. To Ron, Hermione and I, they were invisible.

Having learned about them in Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures class, I realized it was the blood that was covering Harry and Hermione that was attracting them. At first, Harry said there were only two, but I knew more would come with the smell. I was right. Luna saw more coming our way, and it was decided.

Of course, getting on an animal that you can't see is far more difficult than I realized. Luna was kind enough to oblige us in helping us get on them. Although I could feel it's seemingly skeletal body and silky mane, it was not an easy task for me to put my faith in something I couldn't see.

However, let me tell you, as soon as we were up in the air, all doubts about these creatures left me. It was an amazing feeling to be up in the sky soaring faster than any broomstick I'd ever known -- almost better than the first time I'd flown on a broomstick. Granted, I did have to lower my head and body as close to the threstral as possible to keep from falling off, and my hands and face were numbing from the cold, but it was worth it for the feelings of absolute freedom I felt.

As I was wondering if Harry felt the same about riding the thestrals, the air around me gave a sudden jolt, and we were all suddenly descending towards London. I gripped the thestral tightly and I could see Hermione below me, screaming in terror at the sudden change. I smiled to myself at how she had told me how much she loathed riding on Buckbeak, Hagrid's hippogriff, the first time they had saved Sirius.

I only hoped we could do it again.

We finally touched down, and though I was a bit sad to get off my thestral, I was still happy to feel the steadiness of the ground beneath me at last. Hermione, I can imagine, was too, but not nearly as much as Ron, who seemed to topple off of his right onto the pavement in front of the phone booth that would lead us into the Ministry of Magic . . . and Sirius Black . . . and possibly Voldemort himself.


	9. Unlikely Heroes

**_Chapter Nine: Unlikely Heroes_**

**__**

You know, for someone who rides a broomstick nearly every day, you'd think that a ride on a magical invisible beast would be no problem for me, right?

Wrong.

I watched my big brother, Ron, almost literally kiss the paved streets of London, having toppled off the invisible thestrals we had flown over most of England with. Just before nearly slamming into what seemed an invisible wall (I wish he would sometimes, but it was only another thestral), I had to keep from laughing aloud.

Oddly enough, I was reminded of one of the Yankee Muggle comic books that our father brought home long ago. It was about a group of Super-Muggle heroes that sported around the world in brightly dressed knickers. One of them, a tall black haired woman, flew through the air in a similarly invisible car-type vehicle, aiding in the pursuit of an equally brightly dressed villain, and saving the world from would-be peril. I wondered how on earth she did not bash her head, or other limbs for that matter, climbing in and out of the damned thing all the time.

My eldest brother, Bill, had told me that someone would have to have put a spell on it in order to make it invisible and fly. Much like our very own old flying Ford Anglia that Ron and Harry had so kindly let loose in the Dark Forest in my first year, that was the only way she could have camouflaged herself enough to sneak up on the villain and help save the day.

Unfortunately, we couldn't have looked farther from a team of heroes.

More than half of us looked like we had gone through the grinder already today, bruised and battered from Slytherins, centaurs, and even giants, trudging all this way to save Sirius Black ourselves. At least, Harry thought we were saving him, when really, we had no idea if Sirius was even here at the Ministry of Magic or not.

In addition to Ron, Neville (who, despite his usual nervousness, _could _see the thestrals like Harry and Luna), and admittedly me, Hermione also looked breathless from the flight. Hermione loathed flying of any kind -- Hippogriffs in particular. Moreover, you certainly wouldn't have caught her on a broomstick. She looked green, and once I gained my own bearings, I walked over to her to make sure she wasn't about to get ill on the sidewalk.

Harry and Luna seemed to be the only ones unfazed by the flight at all. Luna hopped right off the thestral and asked Harry what our next step was. Wearing a look that was more than slightly annoyed, no doubt by what seemed like the snail-pace of the rest of us, Harry led us to a rather distressed looking telephone box.

Ron and I rushed in first as Harry opened the door, followed by Hermione, Neville, and Luna before Harry finally squeezed in himself and crammed the door shut. Ron somehow was able to reach behind me and pick up the receiver. I hoped that it was only Neville's wand poking me in the behind.

We stated our business, and were given our visitor badges, which Hermione was able to pass out, before we sank down into the depths of the Ministry below ground. Harry opened the door and we tumbled out like toothpicks from a dispenser.

Still in the lead, I could see Harry was more agitated than ever, gripping his wand tighter when he noticed that the usual security guard that manned the atrium was gone. We picked up our pace to a dash by the time we got through the atrium to the main lifts. Harry punched the nine buttons on the lift pad, and, again, we descended into the lower levels of the Ministry.

I pondered about how Harry knew exactly where to go and why, specifically, he felt Sirius would be found in the Department of Mysteries. Now that I think about it, Harry had never said specifically how he knew Sirius was there. We could have been chasing phantoms for all we knew -- or much, much worse. However, I kept my doubts in reserve. This is where I was meant to be, with my friends and family, aiding Harry as best I can to find Sirius.

Besides, Harry seemed _so_ sure of himself.

The lift door slid open and we quietly entered the hallway that led to the Department of Mysteries. Once again, Harry shamelessly suggested that a few of us (no doubt meaning Neville, Luna and myself) stay behind as "lookouts". Annoyed with Harry's lack of trust in us, I began another angry retort on the fact that we were just as capable, but it was Neville that gave Harry the final word: we were coming with him no matter what. So, we followed Harry, wands at the ready, through the door.

We found ourselves in a large circular room, with large identical doors surrounding us. Neville shut the door and we stood in the dark, lit only by the flicker of blue flames coming from the floating candles about us. Harry looked confused, and I watched him pivot slightly on his heel, determining which door to use, when suddenly, something happened that none of us expected -- the walls began to spin around us.

Hermione tensed, as she grabbed for Harry's arm and watched the walls whirl around us with dizzying speed, and then, just as quickly, stop again. My stomach began to lurch, not from the disorienting doors, but from an uneasy feeling in my gut, which told me that it was a bad idea to come here. We weren't supposed to know which door we came from, and I said so when Ron asked what was going on.

When Ron asked Harry where to go from here, Harry hesitated. He obviously hadn't expected this, and told us that we should be looking for a glittering room. The only thing to do now was to just start trying doors.

I sighed quietly in exasperation and followed Harry and the others through the door directly in front of us. Harry had no idea where he was going or what he was doing. Even worse, it seemed we were already lost in the Department of Mysteries.

The first room we entered was, by far, one of the oddest rooms I'd ever seen. There were no glittering lights as Harry had described, but several desks facing an enormous tank with many even stranger looking fish. Only, they weren't fish at all, I realized as Hermione cocked her head and walked towards the tank. They were brains.

_Why on earth would anyone keep a tank full of brains? Whose brains were they and how did they get there?_ I nearly gagged at the sickening answers that immediately popped into my brain before Harry stated that this wasn't the right place and that we should go back to the blue room.

As I was wondering how we were going to be able to tell where we'd been as we gathered back into the blue room, Hermione thankfully used a spell to mark the door with a large red X. One down, a dozen more to go. So much for a simple, heroic rescue. Spinning again, the doors, now with a red streak instead of blue, slowed and we headed for the next room.

The next room we entered was much larger than the last. A small amphitheatre with steps that lead down to the center of the room was placed on a large stone dais. On the center of the dais stood an archway, which was far older than the Ministry itself. Within the archway hung a frayed and torn looking veil, fluttering slightly, as though someone had just walked through it.

I don't know what it was about that darkened veil that intrigued me so, but I could not stop staring at it, as though someone or something was pulling my attention away from the world, and there was only the veil. I wasn't the only one either. Harry walked down the steps to the archway.

Stopping near Neville at the foot of the steps, I watched Harry investigate the archway, also unable to look away. Suddenly, I heard them. Voices were coming from the other side of the veil. My eyes widened with fright.

_How can there be people in there? What do they want? _I found myself overcome with the feeling of wanting to be there with them -- like I was meant to be there. The feeling of longing was intoxicating. So much so, that I was nearly ill when Hermione physically pulled me, as Ron did with Neville, away from the veil. We filed out of the room and back to the blue room, but not before Hermione had marked the door with another X.

We tried another door, but this time it was locked. Harry tried to open it with a knife he had gotten from Sirius, but to no avail, for it melted the blade. Harry stepped back and the room spun again. As I wondered if that wasn't the room, we were supposed to be in after all, Harry opened the door, and with a rush of excitement and relief, exclaimed that this was the room.

The room itself was filled with the most brilliant, gleaming light I'd ever seen. Upon entering the room, I realized that nearly every single centimeter of the place was covered in clocks -- the walls, tables and a few larger ones on the floor, ticking incessantly like a hundred Percy clones tapping the end of their quills on the desk as they wrote letters. Well, perhaps not _that_ annoying. The source of the shimmering light, however, came from a huge crystal bell jar standing upright on a desk at the very end of the room, and I instantly forgot about the ticking when I saw the fascinating spectacle before me.

In the jar was an iridescent wind that sparkled brightly as its currents drifted about a small egg centered within it. The egg, in turn, would crack open, revealing a small red hummingbird, that would develop from chick to full grown bird as it sailed along the draft of wind inside to the very top of the bell jar. It reminded me, strangely enough, of Professor Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes. Once it reached the top, it would glide back down and become younger, until at last it was an egg again. The jar was positively mesmerizing, and I was in such awe just to look at it.

Harry hurried on to the door behind the bell jar, but I couldn't help myself, I was completely fascinated by the actions of the egg. I could have easily stopped to watch it all day. Just pondering the theories of time, space, and whether or not the bird or egg came first.

Of course, Harry had to push us on, and I must admit he was rather rude when he noticed my interest in the bell jar. By now, I had had just about enough of Harry's utter rudeness and ungrateful attitude. I even ma de a snide comment about him lingering near the archway in the last room. I immediately felt guilty afterwards, fully knowing that I was just as much uncontrollably drawn to the veiled archway as he was. Even thinking about it again was beginning to give me the creeps all over.

Opening the next door, it became obvious to me how very anxious Harry was. Gripping my wand even more tightly now, I knew we were nearing the end of our quest.

The room was enormous, with walls reaching at least ten meters high, with rows upon rows of shelves. What was more remarkable than anything was the fact that every single shelf in the room was filled with small glass orbs, just big enough to fit perfectly into the palm of one's hand? There must have been thousands of glass balls, mostly old and dusty, just sitting here. I noticed that the same kind of blue candles that had lit the circular room also lit every other row of shelves. Given the grandeur and darkness of the room, even the light from the candles made each row of shelves seem endless.

_What a peculiar place to find Sirius, I thought. Why on earth would he be here?_

Hermione mentioned that in Harry's dream the row he was on was ninety-seven, so we quickly, but quietly made our way down the rows, all of us now feeling the full brunt of Harry's nervous tension.

Passing the rows felt like an eternity, there were so many. The blackness seemed to engulf the light around us like a blanket. As we walked, I noticed that the orbs had a bit of a glow to them. Most of them were dim, likely covered up from the amount of dust on them. But, a few had a much brighter glow to them, as though a firefly was resting inside them.

The closer we came to row ninety-seven, my doubt was overwhelming me. I just couldn't understand why Sirius would be waiting for him here. As certain as Harry was that he'd find him there, I was becoming even more certain that he wasn't. Moreover, at this point, I began to wonder slightly if this wasn't a trap after all.

By the time we finally did reach row ninety-seven, Harry was visibly strained. We walked down to the very end of the row, finding nothing, not even a hint that Sirius had ever been there. Harry had been wrong, and I felt awful for him.

He was frantic now, muttering as he walked about, trying to convince himself that his godfather might have been down another row. He even snapped at Hermione when she suggested that Sirius wasn't there. He began pacing back and forth at the end of the rows, hoping that he could somehow catch a glimpse of Sirius and not have us go through this all in vain.

Ron tried to question him now, and Harry looked at him as though he could have easily bitten the head of a dragon. His face was so purple; it reminded me of Mum yelling at Fred and George. However, Harry stopped before he could yell at his best friend, who was pointing to one of the glass globes on the shelf.

The ball of glass had Harry's name on it.

"What is it?" Ron asked again. "What is your name doing down here?"

Harry looked completely perplexed. He looked down both sides of the row, perhaps looking for his name elsewhere before he turned back to the glowing orb and reached for it. Obviously nervous about the ball, Hermione hid her feelings behind a stern voice, suggesting that Harry not touch it. Believing in her intuition, I closed my eyes and tensed for a moment, thinking that something terrible was going to happen.

Curiosity overtaking him, Harry picked up the glass ball and looked at it. Nothing happened. I popped an eye open, then the other, and moved forward with the others to see what it was, as Harry brushed away the dust from the ball.

Unfortunately, the something horrible _did_ happen. I heard the slight popping noise associated with apparating all around us, and we found ourselves surrounded by nearly a dozen Death Eaters.


	10. On the Run

_**Chapter Ten: On the Run**_

Though I gasped in fright at our sudden, most difficult situation, I wasn't at all surprised when the smooth voice of Lucius Malfoy oozed out from behind the nearest Death Eater's cloak and mask. The cold, gray eyes behind the mask sparkled with a look of triumph as he loomed over us, hand outstretched towards Harry, demanding he be given the ancient looking orb.

Defiant as ever, Harry held the ball close to him, and gave his own demand --Sirius's whereabouts. But, the Death Eaters did nothing but scoff and chuckle. I watched Malfoy's eyes furrow with mild frustration, as he shook his hand again with slight expectation, this time calling the glass globe a prophecy.

_A prophecy? How can that be?_

Becoming more infuriated than ever, Harry tensed up and again demanded to know where his godfather was.

Another Death Eater, a woman with frantic looking eyes, only made it worse by teasing Harry; she echoed his demands with a patronizing laugh as she and the other Death Eaters moved in closer -- less than a meter away now.

Harry began to look panicked and Ron stepped close to him, more than ready to fight, and I gripped my wand as well. Harry whispered something to him, but I couldn't hear what it was. Ron didn't budge from his best friend's side, but the female Death Eater laughed even harder now at Harry's obvious attempt to keep us from fighting.

Annoyed at this point, Malfoy threatened Harry that, if he didn't hand over the prophecy to him, the Death Eater's would start using their wands. Harry called his bluff, daring Malfoy to take it, as Neville, Hermione, Luna and I encircled Harry, holding our wands at the ready. However, the Death Eater's didn't attack us.

_This is mad. We are outnumbered at least two to one, why hadn't any of them just grabbed it away from Harry? Why is Malfoy insisting that Harry give the prophecy to him?_

Just as I finished my thought, the female Death Eater did, in fact, try to 'Accio' the prophecy away from Harry, but he quickly blocked the spell. Malfoy seemed enraged with the act, shouting at her that they could not break the prophecy. _Why can't they break it? Why is this prophecy so damned important to the Death Eaters_?

The woman, who didn't seem to care about Lucius's warnings, stepped towards Harry regardless, and pulled off her hood. I'd seen pictures of her before . . . at Sirius' house. Although her face was pale and worn from years at Azkaban Prison, the woman was unmistakably Bellatrix Lestrange.

_How can that be? She's supposed to be in Azkaban!_

Lestrange stepped forward and suggested another means of motivating Harry; her eyes were filled with lunacy, no doubt from her years spent in the wizard prison.

I looked about me in shock. _Did she just say to take the 'small one' and torture her? This bird really is nutters!_

It was all I could do to keep from yelping at the thought of being tortured by this maniac. My heart was racing, and I could feel the blood rush up to my head, pounding in my ears.

_Well she'd better not think I'd go quietly, dammit!_

My breath quickened as my friends surrounded me from behind and Harry himself stepped protectively in front of me. Honestly, if I hadn't been so damned frightened already, I could have swooned at him being so close to me. _He does have a rather lovely neck, doesn't he? Oh, by Merlin! What the hell am I thinking of that now at a time like this! Focus Weasley!_

I glanced to Neville, who stood beside me and I was astonished to notice an otherworldly look cross his face. Not only was his jaw set tightly, teeth clenched, but he was also shaking, not out of nervousness, but in anger. Bellatrix Lestrange was the Death Eater who had tortured and nearly killed his parents.

When Harry asked Lestrange about the prophecy, she seemed surprised. When he mentioned You-Know-Who's name, she went wild with anger at him even speaking it. Lestrange cast a spell at Harry, which was quickly deflected by Malfoy. The spell shattered several glass orbs on the floor, sending wisps of people floating about their own prophecies. Did this mean that there was a prophecy about Harry in the ball he carried?

Malfoy screamed at the Lestrange woman, who began ranting on about how Harry dared speak the Dark Lords' name. At the same time, however, Harry kept asking questions about the prophecy, his voice sounding only partially focused on what they were discussing. Was he formulating a plan? Malfoy and the other Death Eaters seemed delighted in the fact that Harry had no idea what the prophecy was all about. When Malfoy mentioned his scar, Harry began to look a lot less nervous, and more like an angry Neville now.

While the Death Eaters began wailing with laughter at Harry's ignorance of this prophecy, I could hear him grinding out a whisper to Hermione without moving his mouth. "Smash shelves . . . when I say go . . ."

Harry continued to distract the Death Eaters by talking about the prophecy while Hermione passed the message on to the others. I also offered an idea to the others to use the Reductor curse to remove the shelves, which would buy us some time to escape.

What came out of Malfoy's mouth came as quite a shock to us all. He revealed to Harry that the prophecy was not just about Harry, but You-Know-Who as well, and could very well have been the reason he went after Harry and his parents in the first place.

As Malfoy went on about how his Dark Lord couldn't very well enter the Ministry of Magic and steal it for himself, and that was the reason he had used Harry to get the prophecy, I could feel Harry tense up behind me, waiting for the right moment.

"Now!" shouted Harry.

We all pointed our wands at the shelves around us and sent the charms flying across the room. Dozens of shelves smashed about us and the prophecy globes broke apart, sending wisps of echoing voices past, speaking only of the future.

Harry yelled at us to run, and run we did, as glass and wood fell on us like rain. I looked back to Harry, who had grabbed the front of Hermione's robes to pull her away from the collapsing shelves. Then I noticed that it wasn't just the glass and wood, a Death Eater had lunged at Harry and Hermione through the falling debris. I slowed down, turning back to help Harry as I watched Hermione throw a stunner with her wand at the Death Eater. However, Ron had grabbed my wrist and pulled Luna and me through the Prophecy Room, leaving Harry, Hermione, and Neville behind.

"No, Ginny," Ron shouted, "Come on! We have to get out of here!"

Ron rounded the corner of the row and we raced back down the main hallway towards the door to the room with all the clocks. I nearly stumbled into my brother as he stopped several meters from the door.

"Ron, what are you _doing_?" I muffled into his shoulder.

"We can't go that way," Ron said slowly in what I liked to call his "chess voice", and I realized he was strategizing our escape. "They expect us to run back to where we came from. We have to lose them."

"Where are we to go, then?" asked Luna plainly, looking quite unfazed by the Death Eaters' attack.

"What about Harry, Hermione and Neville?" I hollered. "What if they can't find us? We _can't_ split up!"

"We have to, it's our only chance." Ron said with a tone of finality. "Now come on -- and be _quiet!_"

Ron ran on forward, passing the door into the clock room. Luna and I followed, and I could hear Malfoy shouting, telling the Death Eaters to split up as well. Ron was right. I only hoped that Hermione, Neville, and Harry hadn't been caught.

We were nearly to the end of the rows when we heard a few of the Death Eaters coming down one of the nearby rows behind us. There was a door not more than a few meters away and we sprinted toward it. Ron tried the doorknob, but it was locked. It was a good thing Hermione wasn't there at the time, because a few choice words flew out of my brother's mouth so fast, they even made me flinch.

"OH, MOVE OVER!" I shouted, shoving my brother aside with my shoulder. I pointed my wand at the door.

_"Alohomora!"_ and the door swung wide open. The room was dark inside, and I turned around and motioned to Ron and Luna to follow. Luna stepped in ahead of me. Ron however, looked at me blankly, his head slightly tilted to the side.

"What is it?" I wondered aloud.

Ron shook the look from his face. "Er, nothing. Déjà vu, that's all. Let's…"

A red jet of light blazed in between me and Ron's faces, hitting the wall behind us. The Death Eaters had caught up to us.

"Ron, the door! Get the door!" I screamed.

Ron slammed the door behind us and I heard the lock click, but it would take them even less time than us to get through it. The room was dark at first, but once the door was closed behind us, the room lit up dimly with colored orbs of light. When I looked up and around, there seemed to be a star field all around us, much like the enchanted ceiling above the Great Hall at Hogwarts -- only better. The room was a map of the known universe. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

"What is this?" I asked in awe. "It looks like a..."

My brother pushed me ahead again, "No time, we have to go!"

Suddenly, what seemed like out of nowhere, I felt the floor give way beneath me, and we were immediately in the air, floating like balloons, without any control over where we were going.

This time, Ron and I both swore.

"What now, big brother?"

"I don't know!" Ron yelled in frustration, scrambling through the air as though he were drowning. "Try and grab on to something -- anything!"

Luna pointed ahead of us, and said calmly, "I think I see some doors ahead of us."

Time seemed to stand still in the room. It seemed like an eternity. I reached for one of the planets (Neptune, I think) and tried to grab hold, but the dark rings around it kept me from getting a decent grip. My hands slipped and I floated onward towards the center of the room.

Suddenly, I felt the heaviness of my body again as gravity finally came back to me. What seemed like a stroke of luck at last, became danger as the door opened behind us and four Death Eaters entered.

Unfortunately for Ron, he hadn't been able to catch himself as he hit the floor with a hard thud. I looked back to my brother on the ground, now moaning in pain and grabbing at his head. As I was going back to aid him, Ron looked up.

"Ginny! Luna! RUN!"

It was too late -- the Death Eaters were already throwing curses at us. With my mind racing at what to do, at least to give me another moment to help my big brother and a chance to escape before we both got stunned, I did the first thing that came to mind.

_"Claudoportus!"_ I yelled, slamming the door shut behind the last Death Eater. Almost instantly, gravity betrayed us, and we were again floating in darkness. However, I was able to push myself back towards Ron.

"Ron! I'm coming!"

"No, Ginny," he moaned in agony. He was only centimeters away from my grasp when Ron was finally hit square in the back with one of the Death Eater's spells, throwing him hard past me and straight into what I was sure to be the planet Uranus. I heard Ron beginning to chuckle lightly as he hit the planet, and I suspected that he'd been hit with a strong Babbling or Laughing Charm. I, on the other hand, was still heading straight back to the Death Eaters.

Scrambling hard to stop my inevitable collision, I threw out a shield charm to keep them from casting spells at me. Fortunately, they were too busy at first with finding their own footing to realize how fast I was actually coming at them. It was then, that I heard Bellatrix Lestrange, screech madly, "The little one! Rodolphus, take her! TAKE HER!"

Passing the tiny planet I knew had to be Pluto, I grabbed hold for dear life in order to stop myself. Ron was still hurtling across the room, but was now close to Luna, who had almost reached the door on the other side of the room.

"Luna! Help me!" I shouted, pushing myself away from the planet to gain some forward momentum, but the Death Eater had grabbed hold of my ankle. A sudden flash of blue flashed past me, and a second later Pluto had blown up right in the Death Eater's face. The sheer force of him tugging my ankle as he was thrown back was more than my body could take.

"CRACK!"

A white-hot pain shot through my ankle as I felt the bone break, and I screamed in agony. I slung forward towards Luna and Ron. If I hadn't already had enough adrenaline in me to take on a giant single-handedly, I swear I could have easily passed out from the pain.

The Death Eater had tumbled backwards, knocking the other three back with him. I used what was left of my strength to use another disarming spell on the Death Eaters, giving me a few more seconds time to struggle towards Luna and Ron.

With perfect timing, Luna, with Ron not far behind, had finally made their way to one of the doors by the time I had nearly reached them. I braced myself for the fall, holding my broken ankle up in an effort to keep from hitting it again. Just as I reached the door, Luna opened it, and the three of us spilled out onto the floor of the blue room.


	11. Helpless

_**Chapter Eleven: Helpless**_

Harry and Neville jumped back in surprise as Luna, Ron, and I spilled out onto the floor of the blue room.

"Ron?" Harry said, puzzled for a moment before he realized Ron had been hurt. We must have all looked terrible, because he immediately ran over to us. "Ginny -- are you all…"

My brother, still out of it from being blasted by a Death Eater, actually attempted to reach for Harry, but failed miserably. He ended up taking grasp of Harry's robes, nearly taking Harry down with him.

However, Harry was the most physically unharmed of the lot of us. As I managed to pull myself up against the wall, Ron began to babble on about how bad Harry had looked. I noticed that Neville's face was bloodied and mangled, looking much like I imagined my ankle felt, and I was sure that his nose had been broken. Hermione, on the other hand, was unconscious, slung over Neville's shoulder like a rag doll.

Just as I was about to ask what had happened to Hermione, another sharp pain shot through my ankle and up my leg. I had to shut my eyes just to keep from wincing in pain.

Harry looked up at me worriedly. "Ginny, what happened?"

I ignored him, needing to fight against the pain in my ankle. Becoming dizzy, I slid down the wall to keep from passing out myself; I had to remain strong for Harry. Ron and Hermione were the center of his strength, and seeing them like this -- seeing all of us hurt like this, I knew that Harry would not be able to go on much longer without falling into despair himself.

Bent over me to see if I was all right, Luna took a cue from me and began to explain the events in the planet room to Harry. He seemed very concerned for me because he insisted that we get out of there as soon as possible.

Harry pulled Ron up onto his shoulder as Luna put her arm around me in order to help me up. I tried to shake the pain off and get up -- a rather stupid idea, for I was in no condition to stand, and I fell back against Luna for support.

We had nearly reached the door when another door flew open and Bellatrix Lestrange along with two other Death Eaters burst into the room. "There they are!" she bellowed.

Dodging the spells flying across the room, Harry, Neville, and Luna, with the rest of us in tow, bolted for the door. Harry opened it, and flung Ron aside to help the rest of us through before the Death Eater's could reach us. He finally slamming the door shut behind Luna and I. Relief swept over me for a second as I heard the Lestrange woman screech in anger. With the blue room in a spin, they had temporarily lost us for the moment.

We were in the creepy brain room again. Footsteps were heard all around us as the Death Eaters were finding a way in. Instantly, Harry, Neville, and Luna unloaded me, Ron and Hermione near one of the tanks and raced around the room to seal the doors. They had almost all the doors secured when I heard Luna suddenly fly threw the air, landing on a desk in an unconscious heap like Hermione. Several Death Eaters pushed their way through the door, and multicolored streams of light began flashing back and forth before my eyes as spells flew across the room.

Harry and Neville ran back to the tanks when Ron began babbling again -- this time about the brains, and within seconds, before anyone could stop him, Ron had summoned one of the brains out of the tank. It spun in the air, tentacles of brain matter unraveling behind it, and it landed right into my brother's hands.

Harry shouted, "RON, NO!"

Before any of us realized what had happened, the tentacles began wrapping themselves around Ron's arms and legs. As soon as it made contact with his skin, Ron began to struggle against it. As my brother cried out for help, Harry attempted to dislodge the strands of brain from Ron with his wand. I screamed as they moved up his body, causing him to fall over. I watched in horror as the brain entwined around Ron like ivy, moving towards his head.

"Harry, it'll suffocate him!" I shrieked again, trying to crawl over to him, but my ankle prevented me from moving with any speed. The last thing I remember was screaming, reaching toward the brain tentacles in an attempt to keep them from strangling my brother to death, when a flash of red light filled my vision and then -- nothing.

As I drifted in and out of unconsciousness, the difference between dream and reality became a blur. I could swear that I heard Harry, prophecy in hand, screaming in anger as a woman's voice (it must have been Bellatrix Lestrange), chased him out of the room.

Waking up in the Brain room again, I turned immediately to assist Ron, but he had vanished, as did everything else in the room. As I looked around, I noticed I was completely alone, save for the brain tanks, the water in them lapping against the glass quietly.

My ankle was no longer paining me as much, and I used the surface of the tank to push myself up. It was then that I heard Harry shouting wildly in anger once more. I was able to hobble to the door without assistance, finding myself in the blue room once more. Harry dashed around the dimly lit blue room without noticing me, shouting for Sirius, though I hadn't seen him myself. _Had Harry finally found his godfather? _

I watched him run back through one of the doors previously marked by Hermione when I heard another voice. It was a voice much higher in pitch than Harry's, and laughing in such a maniacal way that shivers went up my spine. My heart filled with dread, trying to deny what I knew in my soul to be true, and I realized that Harry had entered the veil room.

Hurrying to the center of the blue room floor, I waited for the room to make its disorienting spin around again. I watched intently as the streaks of red cut the room in half. I had to maintain my focus. Harry needed me. The streak began to break up and the room slowed to a standstill. I pulled out my wand and hobbled though the red marked door.

The room was as empty as it was before and just as eerily quiet, but I was not alone. Harry and Neville were standing directly in front of the veiled archway. The veil seemed more tattered than before, and it no longer fluttered gently --it was flapping hard as though a wind was howling though it. Oddly enough, it wasn't fluttering outward as it was before; it was whipping inward, sucking the air into the dark nothingness behind it. _What was it about this room that had drawn me in so much that Hermione herself had to drag me away from it?_ However, I didn't feel that way now. Something in the back of my mind told me to keep away from it.

"Harry . . . Neville," I called to them, but they hadn't heard me.

In my need to help Harry, I urged myself on, and made my way down the stairs to meet them. Taking a step forward, my injured ankle finally faltered and I tumbled down the stairway, crashing hard into the stone dais that lay in the center of the room.

Pushing myself up on my hands, I called for Harry and Neville to help me, but it quickly became a terrified shriek when I noticed several pairs of withered hands, one after another reaching for Harry and Neville though the blackness of the veil. The quiet voices I heard earlier filled my ears and the hairs on my neck prickled as though they were whispering directly into my own ear.

"Harry!" I shouted at him, trying in vain to get his attention.

This time, he had heard me. He turned around at looked at me.

"Harry," I wept now, "You can't do this. Not now. I love you!"

Giving me the same knowing grin he had in the Chamber of Secrets, the same grin that told me that everything was going to be all right, and that I had nothing to fear, Harry mouthed, "I'm sorry, Ginny." He turned back towards the veil and walked into its welcoming arms.

"NO!" I screamed. Then with all the strength I had left in me, I crawled up the steps of the dais in an effort to stop him, but it was too late. For I moment, I swore that the whispers in my ears became laughter, but just as quickly as I had thought it, they became whispers again. Harry was gone.

I looked up at Neville, still standing there in a daze staring at the veil, not realizing what had just occurred. "Neville! Why didn't you stop him?"

As if the anger in my voice pulled him from his daze, Neville acknowledged me for the first time. He bent down to help me stand with him in front of the veil. "I can't go in there," he said reluctantly. "They didn't choose me." Then he smiled and looked at the veil, still whipping madly. "At least now he can be with Sirius."

The despair I felt was overwhelming and I leaned into Neville for support. He patted my back in a comforting hug. "There, there, Ginny," he said with a tone of sadness. "Harry's not the only one they want." Neville's arms pushed me away by the shoulders and he turned me around to face the wretched veil.

Horrified, I struggled against Neville's grip as he held me in place for what I knew was coming. The whispers of souls behind the veil turned to laughter once again, but this time, a singular, high-pitched laughter overwhelmed me, and I screamed in terror as a single hand this reached for me behind the veil, grabbing my arm. Although I had never physically felt it before, I knew it all too well. A severe coldness swept though me, numbing my body. It was a feeling I hadn't felt since my first year at Hogwarts.

The hand gripped me tightly, and I could just barely make out the silhouette of Tom Riddle pulling me into darkness . . .

The next thing I knew, I found myself startling awake in the Hogwarts infirmary. Neville was there; his face clean and his nose back to normal. He sat up at my bedside as he quickly put down a copy of the latest Quibbler. "Madam Pomfrey, she's awake," he called out behind me in haste.

Still trying to gain my bearings, I looked around for Harry. "Neville, what's happened?" I asked frantically, pushing myself up with all the strength in me. "Harry! Oh Merlin! What's happened to Harry?"

"He's fine," Neville said assuredly, pushing me back down into the bed. "We're all just fine."

"Ron! What about Ron?"

"Yes, him too Gin, _now lie back down!"_

"Mr. Longbottom is right here, my dear, now lie down for a moment," Madam Pomfrey said in her trademark kind voice. "My, that was quite a nightmare wasn't it? Here . . . take some of this it will help you to rest."

Dreadfully parched, I drank from the cup without thinking. "But I can't rest, not yet." My eyes almost immediately became heavy, and I fought to keep them open. "I have to save him."

"Save who?" Neville asked quizzically.

"Harry . . ." I said drowsily. "I can't let him go through the veil alone. Tom is waiting for him there . . ."

I fell into unconsciousness again.


	12. Knowing the Difference

_**Chapter Twelve: Knowing the Difference**_

Groggily, I woke up with my eyes still feeling the heaviness from the sleeping potion that Madam Pomfrey had given me. When I finally did open my eyes, I was surprised to see Neville gone from the infirmary, but Hermione was in the bed next to mine. I sat up in my bed and yawned.

"Good Morning, Ginny," she said warmly, putting down her Arithmancy book.

Not missing a beat, Madam Pomfrey jumped over from the other side of the infirmary and was at the bedside fussing over me like my Mum. "Ankle feeling better my dear?" she inquired, lifting the sheet to check my leg.

I hadn't even noticed that the pain in my ankle had completely diminished, and I stretched it out, as I often did, until I heard the familiar pop. "Fine, I guess," I said with a slight smile.

"Good, let me fetch you something from the kitchens. You must be hungry," Madam Pomfrey said.

"Yes, thank you," I said, realizing that my stomach felt as empty as a quaffle.

Straightening my bedclothes before she left, Madam Pomfrey added, "Oh, Miss Granger, will you be so kind as to take another cup of your healing potion. I doubt your ribs will heal as well all by themselves," and she left just as promptly as she came.

Hermione sighed heavily, and I watched her drink a cup of what looked like some horrible tasting concoction. It was then, that all the memories of the Department of Mysteries came flooding back to me so quickly and I felt ill.

Ron. The Brains. Death Eaters. The prophecy. Harry.

"Hermione!" I yelped, panic in my voice. "Ron, Harry -- are they all…"

Hermione held up her hands in a calming motion, swallowing her last gulp. "Ginny, calm down, they're fine. We're all getting along just fine --though some of us have a bit more recovering to do than others." She nodded her head to the bed on the other of her. Ron, with enormous red welts, no doubt from the brain tentacles, was there fast asleep and snoring. Hermione continued. "Those brain things got him worse than anything else that hit the rest of us, but Madam Pomfrey said he'd be right as rain in another day or two."

"And Harry?" I asked urgently.

"He's all right, I swear," Hermione sighed with slight exasperation. However, the expression on Hermione's face changed quickly from joy to sorrow, and she began to wring the sheets in her hands nervously. "There is some bad news from all this -- Sirius is dead."

"I know," I said quietly, looking down at my bedclothes. Hermione looked at me with bewilderment, but judging by the look on my own face, which was now starting to feel hot, my eyes blurring with tears, she said nothing. Finally, I asked hoarsely, "How did it happen?"

"It was the Lestrange woman," Hermione said carefully. "She hit him with a killing curse, and he fell backwards through that old archway with the veil."

Shaking my head, I shut my eyes tightly to keep the tears from coming. It was just as I had dreamed. Sirius was gone, on the other side of the veil. Harry's only scrap of real family left, and the one person he thought of as a parent, was gone forever. I couldn't have imagined what Harry might have been going through. My heart went out to him, and I let the tears fall at last.

"Ginny? Oh, Ginny, what is it?" Hermione asked, though I suspect she already knew the answer. "Should I call Madam Pomfrey back?"

"No, no. I'll be all right," I whimpered. "I just feel so awful for Harry, you know. It was his godfather after all."

Hermione looked at me seriously for a moment. "Ginny, I know that's not the only reason you're upset. Neville told me you had nightmares last night."

"He did?" _Oh, damn._

"Yes," Hermione said with a tone of finality. "Now talk."

Sighing with resignation, I told her about the veil dream. Though I'd tried to leave out certain parts about telling someone that I loved him, Hermione seemed keenly interested in the dream. When I mentioned Harry going through the archway, her eyes widened in surprise -- especially when I told her that Tom Riddle was behind the veil. Though I never mentioned it, I couldn't help but wonder in the back of my mind, if any other parts of my nightmare would also come to pass.

Thankfully, Hermione never interrupted me once. She just let me go on and on about Harry, which was unfortunate because when I finished, Hermione said rather smugly, "Well that about settles it all up, doesn't it?"

Realizing my error in talking too much, I began to stare at the linens again, feeling the familiar burning of my ears. "Settles what?" I asked, pretending not to understand what she'd meant, though I knew perfectly well what she was about to say.

Hermione laughed at my display of ignorance, but quickly grasped at her aching chest. "Oh, my dear, sweet, Ginny. When are you going to learn that there is a difference between giving up on someone, and getting over them?"

Having been stuck in the infirmary well past lunch, I rushed back up to the common room to change my clothes for an early dinner. On the way, the students were all a buzz about Umbridge, and when I reached the Great Hall, Neville informed me that Dumbledore had "found" Professor Umbridge in the Dark Forest, but had said nothing about what had happened to her. Of course, something must have happened, for she was staying in the infirmary for the rest of term.

Neville laughed heartily. "You'd think Fred and George had jinxed her or something. They're quite brilliant. Of course, Ginny, they have nothing on you."

Sipping my pumpkin juice, I smiled into my cup. George had been trying to tell me how I felt about Harry the night before he and Fred left Hogwarts. It was his words that brought me some hope for a future with Harry. _"You know he needs you, Gin. You've always known that you have a part to play in all of this, whatever it may be . . . you're connected for better or worse . . . and whether he knows it or not, you two compliment each other in such a way that I've never seen in any other two people . . ."_

Dinner went on with Neville and me (I wasn't surprised that Harry hadn't come down for supper that evening at all) discussing the previous evening's events. However, when he brought up that night in the infirmary, and the nightmare I had, I told him that I didn't remember anything.

I excused myself early that evening, and went upstairs to write George, pulling out a charm Hermione had found for the twin's Extendable Ears. "As troublesome as they are sometimes," Hermione had said in the infirmary earlier that afternoon, "they're dead useful inventions. Just don't mention that I found it for them, okay." She had then handed the parchment over with a wink.

Dipping my quill, I began my letter, anxious to tell my brother that he was right after all.

_Dear George,_

_First of all, I know Mum has probably told you what has happened by now, but let me assure you that I am quite fine, and have no permanent injuries. Ron, on the other hand, is still staying in the infirmary, but he's doing well. He and Hermione should be completely recovered in a few days. _

_Now, let me get to the point of this letter. I have no idea where you became so damn insightful all of the sudden—probably got it from Mum. She always seems to know everything. Well, almost everything._

_I don't quite understand why it hasn't dawned on me until now. I suppose it's just the trademark Weasley stubbornness rearing its ugly head once again. Perhaps I was tired of having my heart broken day after day, again and again._

_Now that this has been all said and done, I take a deep breath and say the words that I have longed to say for a year. _

_I love Harry Potter._

_I have never stopped loving Harry Potter._

_And I will continue to love Harry Potter until my body takes its last breath._

_There I said it. Are you happy now? _

_I suppose this is, after all, a good thing. Being with Michael has taught me loads about relationships in general. It allowed me to move on for a time, and get over the silly schoolgirl crush that has plagued me for years. It gave me time to see Harry as himself. Just Harry. Not as The Boy Who Lived._

_Now that I do see Harry for who he truly is, I love him even more. I love that he isn't perfect, and isn't trying to be. He's just a boy trying to make his way in this chaotic world. Just as scared and confused as any other bloke his age. And I adore him for that. I love him for the boy he is, and the man he is destined to become._

_Yes, I know that I gave up on him for a while, but you see, I never got over him. I know this is what you were trying to tell me the night before you and Fred left Hogwarts, but I didn't want to hear it. Although at that point, Michael's and my relationship was beginning to crumble, I still felt a certain loyalty towards him. After all, he was my boyfriend for nearly eight months._

_I suppose I'm writing this now because I needed to tell someone. I could tell Hermione, sure and I eventually will. But now this feeling is still mine, and I don't wish to share it with anyone, except you. I know you will keep it a secret. Besides, who are you going to tell, Fred? Mum?_

_It's time for me to go now. I miss you and Fred awful here. You are truly missed throughout the school. Now finally, Headmaster Dumbledore is back now, and things are at long last, the way they should be for the moment. But who knows how long it will last. I have a feeling that the darkest of days are coming soon enough. I also know that it will be the strength of our friendship and love that will keep us all together._

_I hope things are going well for you and Fred at the joke shop. I can't wait to come visit when summer holidays begin! Give my love to Fred for me. Please write soon!_

_Love always,_

_Ginny_

_P.S. By the way, enclosed with Pigwidgeon here is a charm I found while I was in the infirmary to strengthen the power of the extendable ears. I hope that this will prove useful and boost the sales up a bit for the shop._

_Gin_

A few days later, Ron and Hermione were released from the infirmary. Ron still had a few bad welts, but for the most part, he was in good spirits. Hermione seemed well enough, as she kept trying to pester Harry about Sirius's death, claiming that he needed to "share his feelings" with them. Luckily, Ron was around enough to keep her in line. Honestly, I think the real reason she did it was that she was a bit hurt by the fact that he didn't want to talk about it at all with her or Ron. Harry would come around sooner or later; he simply wasn't ready yet.

Neville on the other hand, returned to his usual clumsy self, with the exception of his own pestering about my dream. I kept telling him that I didn't remember, but I have a feeling that he knew more than he let on, and wanted to talk about it. _All in due time, Neville dear._

The last night of term, I caught Luna walking down the hallway on the way to the Great Hall with several pieces of parchment in her hands. "Just putting up signs for my lost things again, you know how it goes."

Smiling lightly I replied, "I know. I take it you won't be going to the feast then?"

"I may make it for dessert, but I still have loads of signs to put up yet." Luna said, shuffling through her bag for some tacks.

"Would you like some help, then?" I offered.

"Oh, no, go on and enjoy the feast. I'll join you later on perhaps," she answered sweetly, and started up the staircase, suddenly turning around as though she remembered something. "Ginny, do remind me to give you something before we head out tomorrow. I have something that might interest you."

"Yes, of course," I responded, wondering what she could have for me. "Good luck with your search. I hope you find what you need."

Luna said simply, "Thanks, Ginny. You too," before climbing up the stairs again, leaving me to wonder again what she had meant.

I wasn't until the next morning that I'd finally understood what Luna said to me the night before. I was riding along with Ron, Hermione, and Harry in the thestral drawn coaches back to Hogsmeade station. Harry was still carrying on in his somber mood, having given Hermione another dirty look when she again tried to bring up Sirius. Ron ended up nudging her hard in the arm as punishment.

When we arrived, Ron got out first, then Harry, who in turn helped Hermione out of the coach. I was still gathering my things when I realized that Harry was waiting for me, holding his hand out in order to help me out. I let him take my hand, but when I caught his eye, I noticed he was looking straight at me. It was a look I'd never seen before on him, but it was unmistakable when I saw it. He was looking to me for comfort. Not the hugs and kisses kind of comfort that a mother would give. It was the comfort of a friend. A friend that would listen, not judge, or ask questions. Someone who would just be there for him.

Not Ron. Not Hermione. Of all people, he looked to me.

It's a terrible thing to say of either of them, but Ron and Hermione didn't always know what was best for Harry. Hermione was far too smothering most of the time, and poor Ron didn't even know how to approach him. Harry had gone through a tremendous lot in the last year, and he needed time. Time to grow, in strength and heart, and take in all that has happened and prepare for all that would come.

Knowing all of this, I took Harry's hand and looked him in the eye. I couldn't offer him the comfort he truly needed, at least, not yet. So I did what I could. I squeezed his hand gently and smiled at him. I let him know that I could and would be there for him when he was ready.

Walking towards the train, Luna caught me by the shoulder and pulled me aside. "I'm glad I caught you, Ginny. Here's the latest issue of my father's paper. There's a quiz in there I felt would intrigue you," she said, pressing the newest issue of _The Quibbler_ into my hands.

"Thanks, Luna. See you soon, okay?"

Luna waived goodbye and boarded the train. I opened up the paper to the index page and smiled when I saw the tagline: "How to Tell if Your Man is Worth the Wait, page 53."

I would take the quiz of course, but I already knew the answer.

The End


End file.
